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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058114">Look At That, A Fuckin' Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElijahKamski/pseuds/ElijahKamski'>ElijahKamski</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/naRK800/pseuds/naRK800'>naRK800</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Nines is a medium, Body Horror, Elijah Kamski &amp; Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gav's dead y'all, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed is a Little Shit, Gavin Reed is a ghost, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, M/M, Spoiler but Zlatko is the murderer and it talks about him killing Gav quite greusomely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:20:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>58,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElijahKamski/pseuds/ElijahKamski, https://archiveofourown.org/users/naRK800/pseuds/naRK800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin Reed has been dead for over a year, and despite his brother being the richest man on earth, no amount of money could unveil any trace of him.<br/>Conan Stern has seen ghosts for his entire life, and as a private investigator is in a unique position to help the police solve otherwise stone cold cases and allow those ghosts to move on. </p><p>When Conan's new apartment is haunted by Gavin, the two get off to an awkward start. But Conan has never worked with a dead detective before, and they begin to unravel something bigger hidden beneath Gavin's murder, as well as things about each other. </p><p>... also Elijah and Connor make heart eyes at each other for no reason, we couldn't help ourselves okay we have no kamcon self control.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. All These Ghosts And I Still Can't Find A Boo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! </p><p>I just want to start by clarifying that this work is NOT set in the Detroit Evolution universe, and Gavin and Nines are not written as sex/touch averse. </p><p>Warnings for this series:<br/>- Gavin is a bit of a creep at first, but it's explained why and he cuts it out eventually.<br/>- Gavin is also dead, if you missed that in the tags, and since Elijah is his brother, there are depictions of Elijah grieving.<br/>- In later chapters, there is gore as Gavin remembers how he was murdered</p><p>---</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski</p><p>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p><p>This series is written in an advanced literate roleplay format by Cadi (ElijahKamski) and Jess (naRK800). If you aren’t familiar with this format, it simply means that an author writes a few pages in the POV of their respective characters, and hands it off to the next person, who has their characters react and respond to the events of the last “post”. Together, we push the plot forward to an agreed (or sometimes unknown) goal. Generally, the rules of roleplaying are that you do not control the other person’s character, meaning that you do not write an action for a character that is not yours unless they have already done that action, or you have asked permission first.</p><p>But don’t worry. I promise it’s easy to read (: Think of them like mini chapters.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time moved differently when you were dead. Space moved differently, too. Things were either too fast, with everything happening at once, or they were so normal and mundane that it was easy to forget - <em> that he wasn’t here </em>. </p><p>That had been a bitter pill to swallow.</p><p>Gavin remembered standing in his apartment as people from a storage company put all his shit into boxes and carried them into the back of a truck. Nobody heard him as he screamed at them to put his things back where they found them. Nobody answered when he asked where they put his cat, that one of them better not have let her out, that he was going to sue all of them for everything they had. </p><p>People didn’t speak to him. They didn’t look at him. The world moved around Gavin like he wasn’t there. He couldn’t touch anyone, it resulted in him passing through them. And then somehow, he didn’t know how, Gavin ended up standing in front of his brother in his grey and black livingroom, begging him to answer him as Elijah clutched a glass of whiskey and stared through his glass windows towards Belle Isle. </p><p>“Just look at me,” no answer. “Answer me. Say something. Eli, please.” Nothing. “Eli, i think i’m dead.” Silence. “I think i’m dead, Eli, so you’ve gotta fuckin’ look at me. Answer me. <em>Please.</em> <em>Anything…”</em></p><p>Gavin didn’t go back to Eli’s after that. But he stopped walking around wondering what was happening to him, too. He was dead. Someone killed him, and Gavin thought it might have been in the basement of some kind of mansion. He kept finding himself in a cage-lined hall that had a pair of stairs leading upwards. But every time he tried to climb them, each and every time he did it, Gavin found himself outside in the yard on a patch of disturbed earth that, over time, began to grow over with grass and weeds. Gavin had a very good feeling why he kept ending up there. He thought he knew why the earth was disturbed. He knew why he kept getting pulled back to that bit of turf like a moth to a flame. It was the same reason ghosts were said to haunt cemeteries. </p><p>The world happened around Gavin, and he seemed to frequent the same three places; where he’d been buried, the DPD bullpen, and his old apartment. Gavin found himself in the latter, frowning down at what looked like recently mopped floors. The windows were open to let out the smell of stale air, and the curtains kept flapping in the breeze. Gavin shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and walked slowly through the apartment. There were some belongings on the kitchen table, which Gavin did his best to snoop at. Just one box he couldn’t see into, due to the top being closed. He left it alone and investigated the bathroom next, taking note of a toothbrush and paste already sitting in a glass. He had a feeling it was a guy, women usually had a lot more shit in their bathrooms, even from the start - and as Gavin stepped into the bedroom and indeed saw a man getting changed, he let out a laugh and a low wolf-whistle as he circled around to see the front. </p><p>“Goddamn, do you need help out of those pants, casanova?” Gavin asked, raking his gaze down the man’s front. He was <em> gorgeous </em> ; inky black hair that was swept to one side, a fit physique, and shoulders sculpted from the gods. And a nice ass, too, Gavin realised as he shamelessly leant back to check. Why did it matter if he openly checked out the new guy living in his apartment? He wasn’t making anyone uncomfortable, and it wasn’t like he could touch or <em> do </em> anything about it. He wasn’t a threat, nobody could see him, and drooling over men was the last bastion of sanity Gavin had left.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan knew that moving to a new city was never easy, but moving to a new apartment without his twin brother almost felt impossible.  Since the moment they were conceived, Conan and Connor had been inseparable.  They’d done everything together.  They played together, shared a bedroom, shared friends, clothes, toys, <em> everything, </em> as children.  They had all the same classes throughout elementary school, and most of the same in high school.  They went to the same college, shared a dorm, and eventually, shared an apartment.  They even shared doctors, and for a while, they shared a car, too.  But there were a few things they didn’t share.</p><p>From a young age, Conan had learned he had an ability Connor didn’t.  He could see, hear, and speak to the dead.  Imaginary friends turned out to be not-so-imaginary after all, and after a while, it just became something Conan did.  He didn’t seek out ghosts to talk to, but he didn’t hide from them either.  If one came to him, he did what he could to help them, or at least, as much as a kid <em> could </em>.  But as he grew older, his “gift” became more tedious, people teased him about it if they ever found out, and gradually, he started to withdraw from the paranormal, at least enough that he could try to live a somewhat normal life, only using his abilities when he needed to.</p><p>After he and Connor graduated college, they both entered into different career paths.  His twin chose to join the police force while Conan chose to become a private investigator, working alongside the police rather than <em> for </em> the police.  It gave him enough space to do things his way, investigate things using his special set of skills without having to answer to the police or a partner.  It had been strange, spending a lot of the day away from Connor after being by his side for the large majority of their lives, but they’d both gotten used to it over time.  They lived together, so they still had plenty of time to spend together at home at the end of the day, but after a few years, Connor got transferred to Detroit.  They had originally planned to move in together, as always, but they decided against it after family, friends, and doctors recommended they try living separately for once.</p><p>Finding a one bedroom apartment was easy, and thankfully, it came fully furnished.  It was really cheap, and Conan made more than enough to cover rent and all of his bills, plus an extra rental space to set up his office a couple blocks over.  It was perfect.  It wasn’t in the best part of town, but in such a big city, his options were pretty limited.  The apartment had been sitting empty for a while, he’d been told, but there were no issues with it.  After signing the lease and having the place cleaned, the furniture was moved back in and Conan moved over his few things.  He didn’t keep the bedroom set the apartment came with, he had his own, but otherwise, all he had to move in were some boxes.</p><p>His first day at the apartment had been spent setting up the basics.  He put away his clothes, set up his bathroom, and set up some of the kitchen.  He still had a few things to set up in the living room, shelves to hang up, books to put away, electronics to hook up, but he didn’t have very many belongings.  He’d also signed the lease on his office and managed to move some things in there too, but he hadn’t had much time to set much up yet.  Conan planned on spending the rest of his day unpacking and setting up the rest of the apartment, then he thought about going to set up his office, or if it wasn’t too late, maybe he could drag Connor out to dinner.  He had a good few hours to decide.</p><p>The laugh and low wolf whistle took Conan by surprise and very nearly made him jump before he caught himself.  He <em> knew </em> he locked his door, he’d lived in a big city before, he <em> always </em> locked every lock when he was inside, just to be safe.  He wasn’t afraid of an intruder, he had a gun and he knew some martial arts, but it was better to be safe than sorry.  There was no way whoever this was came in through the front door, and unless they were able to scale five floors to climb in his windows, he <em> knew </em> they couldn’t have come in that way either.  No one could ever sneak up on him, but this person hadn’t even made a sound.</p><p>Conan did everything in his power to pretend he didn’t see or hear the person now standing in front of him.  He knew it was another ghost.  There was no way he was alive, it was impossible for him to get into the apartment, he <em> had </em> to be dead.  So he just kept his eyes everywhere <em> but </em> on the ghost and continued getting changed, turning his back to the ghost while he pulled on his black turtleneck.  He left the bedroom and the ghost in it, heading out into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and breakfast.  He <em> hoped </em> the ghost would just get bored and eventually go away.  They usually did, if he ignored them long enough.  That is, assuming this “ghost” was actually a ghost and not <em> actually </em> an intruder that <em> somehow </em> managed to sneak up on him and get past his three locks.  He wasn’t sure he could quite explain why he totally ignored him, if that was the case.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin wasn’t at all surprised when he was ignored. It was expected - nobody could see a dead man, and Gavin hadn’t been lewd with the intention that the man hear him. Gavin had a little more class than that, he liked to think. He wasn’t a creep. And so he kept his hands in his jacket pockets, and his eyes on his new housemate, and watched him finish changing. </p><p>There seemed to be something wrong, Gavin noted, as he followed him into the rest of the apartment. Gavin had gotten used to how people moved when they thought they were alone, and this guy was tense and wound up. Maybe there was family drama, maybe problems at work, but for the first time in Gavin’s life, he relaxed in the knowledge that at least it wasn’t about him. </p><p>Gavin continued to snoop once they were back in the main area of the apartment. He looked through what he could see of the man’s DVDs, and read the spines of whatever books were in view, annoyed he couldn’t reach into the box and pull things out. </p><p>“For such a fine piece of ass, you’re kinda boring, you know? Your taste in movies and books, i mean,” Gavin said over his shoulder, not bothering to check if he was heard. He knew he hadn’t been. “You know, my brother would like you. If Eli wasn’t a neurotic antisocial asshole, that is. You never know, maybe he’d suck your cock if you signed a nondisclosure form. Wouldn’t that be a bummer, getting blown by the richest man in the world and you can’t even tell anyone? God, he’s a prick,” Gavin muttered. He touched the receipt on the table, which shuddered and unfurled a little when his hands tried smoothing it out. “Looks like the gas burners are finally getting used.”</p><p>Gavin paused to look at a rust ring on the benchtop, his expression creasing as he finally went quiet. The ring was from his cat’s water bowl. Gavin never used the burners, so he kept all her bowls on that side of the counter. Gavin’s jaw worked as he reached out and touched it, before he walked the length of the apartment to the open window and stuck his head and shoulders out of it, scanning the alley below. No cats, just a racoon and a few pigeons. </p><p>“You a cat person, pretty boy?” Gavin asked miserably as he turned back to face a man who couldn’t even see him. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>While his coffee brewed, Conan grabbed a couple eggs from the fridge and a pack of bacon.  He had to dig out a frying pan, spatula, plate, and fork from one of his partially unpacked boxes sitting on the kitchen floor before he could start frying them up.  The toaster was one of the few things he already had set out, after spending part of the day before cleaning it out.  He’d considered just tossing it and buying himself a new one, but it wasn’t beyond help.  There were a few things that needed some TLC, but he wasn’t about to complain when all of the furniture had just been given to him with the apartment.</p><p>Conan rolled his eyes at the ghost’s commentary as he wandered around his apartment.  He didn’t feel the need to hide it, with his back turned to him.  He had planned on completely ignoring him, but it was hard to, especially once he mentioned his brother and even gave him a name.  He planned on looking him up later, but when the ghost called his brother, Eli, the richest man in the world, Conan’s brows rose in surprise, if only for a brief second.  It wasn’t even the ghost’s remarks about his brother blowing Conan that took him by surprise, it was the identity of that brother that did.</p><p>So this ghost was the brother of Elijah Kamski.  Conan couldn’t remember ever hearing about him having a brother, but then again, he never paid much attention to the guy in the first place.  He was cool, but he didn’t go out of his way to read about him.  He was about to, though.  Once his breakfast was done and he had a chance to sit down, he planned on looking to see if he could find any information on this brother of his.  That is, if his brother was going to let him research in peace.  If he wound up reading over his shoulder, he was going to have to wait.</p><p>Despite not being told that the previous tenant died, Conan was starting to suspect that this guy had lived there.  He could see him moving around in his peripheral, although he still did his best to avoid looking at him, just in case he got caught.  The guy must have had a cat, based on his question.  He could only assume that the cat went to the next of kin or a friend, otherwise it was probably at the shelter or adopted by now, depending on when he died.  Not that Conan planned on getting the cat back anyway, he didn’t really have time for a pet, and he’d never really had one before anyway.  He’d almost answered him, but he caught himself in time and instead turned to mix in creamer and sugar into his coffee while his breakfast cooked.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin didn’t say much else. Instead, he wandered back into the kitchen and watched Nines cook with no small degree of jealousy. Gavin never enjoyed cooking, but he loved eating. The fried bacon Nines was making smelt incredible, and despite not being hungry, it was making Gavin salivate. Gavin leant on the counter, and when Nines began to serve everything up, Gavin slid his hand longingly to the edge of the plate, and groaned when his fingers passed right through it.</p><p>Gavin didn’t follow when Nines took the plate to the table. He just turned on the spot and continued to watch him, taking in the details of his face. </p><p>“Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Gavin sighed, leaning his elbows on the counter. “Your eyelashes are so damn long i can see them from here. And you look like you’d be a great kisser. I love tall men, too. You’re really ticking all the boxes and i can’t even ask you out for a drink. Just my fuckin’ luck,” Gavin said with a huff of laughter, watching him. “I wonder if you even like men. Wouldn’t be the first time i got hot and bothered for a straight boy. Wonder what i’d have to say to get you to smile. You look like you like to take it slow, i could roll with that, maybe. I wonder what you’re like, or if you’re as boring as your bookcase. Guess i’ll find out.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Once his breakfast was done and dished out, Conan brought his coffee and plate over to the small dining table to eat.  It had been hard to avoid seeing that hand reach for his plate, although he knew it couldn’t <em> do </em> anything.  He did make an effort to avoid walking too close to him though.  He didn’t like passing through ghosts and he didn’t exactly like them passing through him either.</p><p>He got comfortable at the table and dug in, pulling his phone from his pocket to check his messages and notifications.  He had a couple messages from old friends back home, but nothing he had to reply to right away.  The ghost was a safe distance away and not at a good enough angle to snoop, so Conan opened up his browser and did a search, looking up “Elijah Kamski’s brother” in hopes that he’d turn up <em> something. </em>  He wasn’t really very surprised when none of the search results had any answers for him.</p><p>Conan had encountered some talkers throughout the years, but <em> no one </em> seemed to talk quite as much as this guy.  He was really hard to ignore.  He found himself listening more than he wanted to, although he was at least still managing to <em> pretend </em> he didn’t hear him.  It wasn’t easy when he felt compelled to answer him half the time, but he was doing alright.  It was easier not to react when he had his mouth full, he just hoped he didn’t get too flustered by all of the things that were being said about him.</p><p>He hadn’t even let himself properly look at the guy yet, but the little bit he had managed to catch a glimpse of was handsome enough.  Looks weren’t really what did it for him though, they were just a bonus.  Personality, common interests, and a connection were what mattered to him.  And ideally a beating heart.  Physical touch was something he craved, and it seemed he could only touch and be touched by people who were alive.</p><p>After he finished his breakfast, he rinsed off all his dishes and put them in the dishwasher to run later and brought his coffee mug into the living room so he could start unpacking more.  He still had a lot of things to unpack, more books and movies, along with a game console and some games he hadn’t dug out of its box yet.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin moved from the counter to the couch as his new housemate began to unpack more things. He stretched out along it, and tucked his arms behind his head, and settled in to watch what the guy was doing. </p><p>“I feel kind of lazy, not helping out. I feel like an asshole, just laying here while you do shit,” Gavin muttered, rolling onto his side. </p><p>Gavin fell into silence as he watched him get to work. He was surprised, but pleased, to see that he had a game console and some physical games. It also turned out there <em> were </em> some movies they both liked, and some he’d forgotten had been made.</p><p>“This is one of Tina’s favourites,” Gavin muttered with an odd softness to his voice. He realised he missed her. He missed all their in-jokes. He missed getting texts from her at three in the morning, or eating pizza together in the break room when neither of them had time for anything better. “It’s tempting to go check on her, you know? See how she is. But i can’t do it, it’s hard watching them and not being able to say anything. It’s different with you, i can say whatever the hell i want and you don’t have any fuckin’ idea my stupid dead ass exists. But when you’re in the same room as them and you’re begging for <em> something </em> and they aren’t even thinking about you? That’s rough. I can’t do that.” Gavin flopped back against the sofa again, deciding he’d had enough of looking at other people’s things for one day. “Not that you can hear me, right, pretty boy? You wouldn’t give a shit even if you could. You don’t know me.”</p><p>Gavin was blessedly silent for the rest of the day. The bad mood he’d put himself in eventually fizzled out, and was replaced with boredom. Gavin walked around and around the apartment, looking for things to do or look at. Mostly, he messed with things - what few, little things he <em> could </em> mess with <em> . </em> Gavin had discovered early on that if he walked through doors, they swung in whatever direction he was walking in. and so he slammed shut all the doors in the apartment, with a bit of effort, and rattled one between the wall and a box that was propping it open, trying to see if he could use the door to move the box. He couldn’t, but it rattled incessantly like a cheap horror film jump scare until Gavin left it alone. </p><p>Gavin had also discovered that he could move certain objects that were incredibly light - empty soda cans, pieces of paper, discarded wrappers, and any bottles left on their sides could be rolled, provided the bottle wasn’t too full. And so he went around and nudged and pushed anything that would move off the tables and onto the floor. It was just something to do, he was <em> bored </em>, and moving things around like a cooped up cat made Gavin feel oddly grounded. It was proof he still existed. </p><p>By the time Gavin had exhausted everything to do in the apartment, it was dark out. The oven said it was 4am, and he knew he hadn’t been fucking around for that long. And so when he circled around behind his housemate to look at his computer screen, he was relieved when it was only 8:30.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It was much easier to pretend to ignore his “guest” when he had things to do, other things to focus on.  Conan could listen to him chatter while he put things away and organized things.  He unpacked one box at a time, putting away all of his physical copies of his books, movies, and games onto their shelves, and set up his console, plugging everything into the TV to connect to the internet later.  He broke down the boxes as he went, folding them and stacking them in a neat pile out of the way to be dealt with later.</p><p>So far, the ghost had only hit on him, showering him in compliments and asking him questions he didn’t expect to have answered, but once he started talking about his friend, Tina, Conan couldn’t quite keep the slight frown off his face.  He couldn’t pretend to know what it felt like to be who he was, but what he was going through wasn’t something Conan had never seen before.  Almost everyone struggled with the same thing.  Almost everyone had friends and family that couldn’t see or hear them, people they missed and wanted to talk to, but never could, no matter how hard they tried or how loud they screamed for attention.</p><p>A part of Conan wanted to help him, but he knew he shouldn’t.  The second he revealed that he could see him, he was never going to get a second of peace.  He knew it.  But the guy sounded so <em> sad, </em> such a stark difference from the confident flirt that had been chatting him up since he appeared that morning.  He felt bad for him, he wanted to help, if anything, just to be a listening ear, something he hadn’t had in God knows how long.  He had no idea how long this guy had been dead or what happened to him.  He knew nothing about him, he was right, Conan didn’t know him.  But he thought he might want to.</p><p>Conan was genuinely surprised by how quiet his visitor got.  He was expecting more commentary, to be followed around and chatted to, but there wasn’t much else.  Doors closing and some objects moving around, but he didn’t bother reacting beyond opening the doors again or picking up knocked over things when he happened to pass by.  The windows were open, he could easily blame it all on the wind.</p><p>By the time he hung up his shelves, hooked up all of his electronics, and unpacked everything, the sun had already set.  It was well past dinner already, but he sent his brother a text anyway, asking how his day had gone and if he knew of any good takeout places nearby yet before tossing his phone onto the couch.  He closed the windows and the curtains and made his way into the bathroom to hop in the shower, letting the door swing partly closed behind him.  He started up the shower and let it heat up while he grabbed a towel and stripped, tossing his clothes into the hamper before getting in.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Like a labrador at its owners heels, Gavin followed the man from room to room. And when he entered the bathroom, Gavin waited outside, assuming that he was using the toilet - until he heard the shower turn on. Gavin had always hated that shower; it leaked puddles everywhere, and took forever to heat up in winter, and he never felt like he had enough room to stretch out and relax. All of that was forgiven as Gavin stepped through the doorway, ignoring how the door creaked open as he did. </p><p>“Jesus fucking <em> christ </em>,” Gavin said, halfway between a mutter and a groan, as he got an eyeful of the guy’s naked body. He paced a short line, from the bathroom sink to the shower door again, running a hand over the bottom of his face as he did. </p><p>“God, you’re the hottest man i’ve ever seen and i don’t even think you know it,” Gavin breathed, pressing his fingers against his temple and leaning all his weight on his back foot. Gavin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and let out a shaky breath that was soon followed by an incredibly weak groan. “I’d fucking <em> worship </em> you. I’d make you sing my name ‘til you forgot your own, baby, i’d make you sleep for a week when i was finished with you,” Gavin said so quietly it was almost a whisper. He leant against the wall beside the towel rack, leaning his head against the tiles and slowly rubbing his face as he gazed over at the man. He was being a downright pervert and he didn’t care. He was half tempted to get in the shower with him, but he liked to think he wasn’t a total creep. “I hope you slip in the shower so we can ghost fuck,” Gavin said, only to pause and then quickly add, “wait, i didn’t mean that…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Really, Conan should have known he wasn’t going to be able to shower in peace.  This guy hadn’t let him get dressed without commentary, so why would showering be any different?  He’d <em> thought, </em> or rather, <em> hoped </em> that closing the door most of the way would have been a clear enough sign to <em> stay out, </em> but the creak of the door was a clear enough sign that he missed the memo.  He simply turned to face the shower wall, turning his back mostly towards him, but he wasn’t sure that was going to stop him from seeing all he wanted to see.</p><p>He didn’t really know what he was expecting.  He was expecting him to babble on some more, maybe throw around a few more compliments, but he surely wasn’t expecting what he got.  That groan and the words that followed went directly south faster than he could even process them.  He closed his eyes and let out an unsteady breath as he tried to rein himself in, keep himself composed.  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swallowing thickly, letting his head tip forward to rest his forehead against the cool tiles.  It had been <em> far </em> too long, and this guy already had an unfair advantage on everyone else, he’d believe him instantly if Conan admitted to seeing and hearing him, he’d have all the proof he needed.  That fact alone won him some bonus points.</p><p>But when he said he wished he’d slip so they could fuck, Conan sobered up enough finally speak back, although his voice was still a little unsteady and a bit lower than his normal speaking voice.  “I need you to <em> stop,” </em> he said, to start.  “I don’t care if you stay here, but we need boundaries.  Okay?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin hadn’t said what he said with the intention of being heard. When he’d been alive, he hadn’t been mouthy like that, he hadn’t been open or easy to read. He’d held everyone at arms length. There’s no way he would have <em> ever </em> been so voyeuristic before. Back when people could see him, Gavin had never been a creep - just an asshole. </p><p>And so when the man in the shower started <em> speaking </em> to Gavin, his lungs froze, and Gavin’s eyes went wide. His expression pinched, and he pushed off the wall, walking towards the shower to get a better look at the man’s face. </p><p>“Did you just--” Gavin swallowed, and shock blanketed him. “Can you hear me, motherfucker? <em> Can you see me?!” </em> Gavin demanded, his eyebrows furrowing upwards as hot embarrassment speared through him. “ <em> Could you hear me this whole damn time? The whole day?!” </em> Gavin ran a hand through his hair. “Why the hell didn’t you answer me? <em> Hello?! </em> Fucking answer me!”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan knew to expect him to be surprised, most people were when he suddenly started acknowledging them, either by looking at them or talking to them.  Some anger was to be expected too, because Conan <em> did </em> ignore him all day, and if their roles were reversed and he’d said the same things his visitor had, <em> he </em> would have been embarrassed.  He expected all of it, none of it was new to him, and yet, the rise in the other’s voice still took him by surprise.</p><p>“Yeah,” Conan answered, his voice still a little rough.  “Yeah, I could hear you, and I can see you.  All day.  I was hoping maybe if I ignored you long enough, you’d eventually leave me alone like most others do, but…  here we are.”</p><p>It wasn’t really a new situation.  He wound up crossing paths with people he just couldn’t ignore sometimes, and this was one of those times, apparently.  He pushed off the wall and ran his fingers through his wet hair, combing it back out of his face.  “Listen, I’m used to this, this isn’t weird to me anymore, and I really don’t care if you wanna stick around until you do whatever it is you need to do to move on, but I really need you to let me shower alone.  Please.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin seized up with shock, and it felt as though suddenly his ears were full of cotton. He should have been excited that someone could finally see him, and that he was having an actual conversation with someone. In a very far away place, he <em> was </em> excited. But front and centre, demanding his attention, was absolute complete and utter mortification. </p><p>“I’m not a creep-- I thought you couldn’t see-- i wouldn’t’ve done any of that if--”</p><p>Gavin turned on the spot and stopped looking at the man, hunched over as his hands covered his face, blocking his vision. </p><p>“<em> Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?! I would have left you alone, why the fuck--? I’m not a-- Why didn’t--?! </em>” Gavin’s voice was angry and upset as embarrassment burned through him. And when he realised he was still in the bathroom doing exactly what the guy had asked him to stop doing, Gavin turned and ran. </p><p>But instead of ending up in his old hallway and back into the livingroom, the apartment dissolved around Gavin, and he found himself back in an overgrown yard. The yard was incredibly familiar to Gavin. It was starting to feel more like home than his old apartment did. And so he paced around and around and around, his head his his hands, trying to burn off the embarrassment that had lit Gavin on fire. </p><p>Back on Conan’s couch, his phone lit up with two messages from his twin brother. </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/>
<b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/>
<b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> Today was a disaster. I’ve aged 30 years.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/>
<b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/>
<b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> I haven’t found anywhere good to eat yet, but i’d like to see you. Burgers?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan didn’t totally think that this guy was a creep.  Sure, he’d watched him get changed and totally looked him up and down in the shower, but in his defense, he didn’t know anyone knew.  It wasn’t really fair of Conan to hold it against him, he believed him when he said if he’d known he could see him, he never would have said those things, or gawked at him like he did.  As much as he wanted some privacy, he really couldn’t blame the guy, there weren’t really any <em> rules </em> when it came to being dead and interacting with the living.</p><p>“I know, I don’t think--” Conan started to say, before the other man left and he was alone, finally.  With a sigh, he turned the shower cold and tried to calm himself back down enough so he could finish his shower and get changed into some clean clothes.  He didn’t take long, once he regained his composure and washed off.  He got out of the shower and headed back to his bedroom to get changed, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater.  He added socks and shoes this time, and finger combed his hair back into place before finally heading out into the living room.</p><p>He was expecting to see the ghost again, but he was nowhere to be seen.  He figured he’d come back eventually, once he wasn’t quite so mortified anymore.  Conan checked his phone, more relieved than he thought he’d be to see two texts from his brother.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/>
<b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/>
<b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> I’ll pick up your usual on the way over.  Today was… interesting?  I’ll fill you in when I get there.</p>
</blockquote><p>After he slipped his phone in his pocket, he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out to the parking lot, looking up nearby burger joints between his and Connor’s apartments.  It wasn’t a far drive, especially so late on a weekday.  Traffic was minimal, and the line at the burger place he picked out was almost nonexistent.  He picked up Connor’s usual order and his own, enough fries for the both of them, and a drink for each of them before driving the rest of the way to Connor’s apartment.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It took Connor a short while to answer the door when Conan finally made it over. His apartment was not fully furnished, only partially, meaning that Connor had a couch, a fridge, and a table, with his mattress on the floor in his bedroom. It wasn’t ideal, and there were a few boxes strewn around. But he also didn’t mind too much, either. </p><p>“Thanks,” Connor said in lieu of hello as he took one of the paper bags out of Conan’s hands and helped him bring everything into the kitchen. Connor looked stressed, and his clothes were a little bit dishevelled. He was exhausted, and leant on the kitchen counter as he pulled out the fries and ate one, setting them between him and Conan. </p><p>“I’m probably going to start ranting, so tell me what made your day so ‘interesting’ first,” Connor muttered, looking over at his brother as he shovelled a handful of fries into his mouth, and sighed as he chewed. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan gave Connor a small smile in greeting when the door opened, letting Connor take what he wanted to carry inside.  He followed him in, setting the other bag and drinks down on the counter, coming to lean on the counter beside him.  He took a glance around the apartment before turning his attention back to Connor.  He was a little surprised that his own apartment was a little more put together than Connor’s, but then again, he got all of his furniture with his apartment.</p><p>“That bad of a day?” he asked while he dug his burger out from one of the bags, unwrapping it.  “I signed the lease on my apartment and office yesterday and moved in.  The place is nice enough, it’s definitely not bad for what I’m paying, but…  You know how things go sometimes.  I had a…  <em> guest </em> today.  Had no idea I could see or hear him, and I <em> tried </em> to keep it that way, but for <em> twelve hours, </em> this guy would <em> not </em> stop talking.”</p><p>He took a bite of his burger, chewing and swallowing before continuing on.  “He walked in on me getting dressed this morning, hit on me, spent the next several hours talking about my taste in movies and books, until I eventually got in the shower after I texted you.  He followed me in there too, and I finally had to say something,” he said with a sigh.  “I was hoping he’d just go away if I ignored him, you know?  They do that sometimes, but I couldn’t keep ignoring him.  When I finally spoke to him, he lost it, he was so embarrassed, and he disappeared before I had the chance to really say anything.  Couldn’t find him anywhere in the apartment before I left to come here.  He’ll probably be back though.”</p><p>Conan shifted to lean back against the counter, shrugging his shoulders.  “I don’t even know his name.  Based on what he’s said, he’s Elijah Kamski’s brother, but I couldn’t find anything about him anywhere online.  As far as the internet’s concerned, Kamski doesn’t have a brother.  No records, no pictures, nothing.  He did mention someone named Tina, though, but I doubt that helps much…” He picked up a fry and ate it, sighing.  “Your turn.  Rant away.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Connor should have known that Conan’s problem would have something to do with his unusual, and endlessly fascinating ability to talk with the dead. He and Conan had been stuck to each other like glue seemingly their whole lives, and while it had once been tempting, as teenagers, to act as though Conan were doing it for attention… Connor knew he wasn’t. The next step, of course, was to assume there was a screw loose in his brother’s head, but Connor had simply witnessed too many instances where Conan knew things about people's dead loved ones he had absolutely no way of knowing otherwise. In the end, Connor had settled on the conclusion that science couldn’t explain everything, and there were things in the world that he would simply never have answers about how they worked. </p><p>“Ugh, that sounds uncomfortable,” Connor muttered, a little disgusted in the sexual behaviour of this particular ghost. “I know it defeats the purpose of us trying to separate, but you’re welcome to stay here until he goes away, or if you need a break,” Connor said, meaning it. </p><p>He reached in and unwrapped his own burger as Conan continued, only for his eyebrows to completely rise at the news about Kamski having a brother who was seemingly deceased. Connor crossed to the dining table and brought his burger with him, booting up the DPD intranet he’d been given. He logged in with one hand as he chewed a mouthful of his burger, and immediately searched ‘KAMSKI’ once he was in. </p><p>“Oooh, here we go,” Connor said, opening up the one and only case file that came up under his name. But instead of an investigation report, a neatly typed lawyers letter popped up, advising the interested party to approach the firm for any information. </p><p>“Well,” Connor said, too exhausted to get frustrated as he turned the laptop towards Conan so he could read it. “It might not tell us his name, but it <em> does </em> tell us Kamski was involved in an investigation with the DPD, and that whatever it is, he paid a lot of money to cover it up. The case isn’t marked as solved, either - i’d say either it’s ongoing, or it’s gone cold. Either way, there’s a good chance your new pervert is telling the truth. An interesting piece of gossip, I wonder how they kept it secret from the press,” Connor wondered aloud, taking another bite out of his burger and letting out his longest sigh yet. </p><p>“I was excited to transfer to the DPD central station. Detroit’s a difficult city and you know I enjoy a challenge, and there were some living legends still working at the precinct I was excited to meet. One of them was Lieutenant Hank Anderson, someone i’ve always admired from afar, even back home,” Connor said, looking up at Conan with a creased brow and incredibly sad eyes. “When i arrived for my first shift today, can you believe i was scheduled to be <em> partnered </em> with him? It was the best case scenario, a dream come true to work beside someone I could learn so much from. But… He didn’t arrive until noon. He was hungover, and had been drinking, and flatly refused to work with me until he was ordered to. He was rude, unfriendly, and unwilling to even start on an investigation. I then learned his last partner died some time ago, but couldn’t get any information about it. It was a disaster. He assaulted me in the break room when I tried to threaten him to straighten out. I thought being tough on him would be something he’d respond well to, but… I’ll know better for next time. It’s been a very long time since i’ve come home from work feeling so defeated.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan gave a small shrug of his shoulders when Connor offered to let him hide out at his place.  “It could be worse.  It’s not <em> awful, </em> I can put up with it.  If I can find out what he wants, maybe I can help him move on.  I want to try, but…  If the days coming wind up being anything like today, I might need to take you up on that offer,” he said with a thin smile.  He didn’t want to intrude, he and Connor were trying to be individual adults and have their own apartments, hiding out at his place when his “roommate” got to be a little too much almost seemed like cheating.</p><p>When Connor moved over to his laptop, Conan followed, eating a bit more of his burger while he watched Connor type.  Checking the DPD databases was a good idea.  Surely if anyone knew who Kamski’s brother was, it would be the police, and yet, when the search came up with only one mostly unhelpful result, he wasn’t all that surprised.  Conan sighed, nudging a chair closer to him with his foot so he could sit while he looked over the search result.</p><p>“This might not even be related to his brother at all.  I could try calling his lawyers, see what info I can dig up through them…” he murmured, thinking it over in his head and aloud.  “Or I guess I <em> could </em> just ask him who he is next time I see him.”  That was probably the fastest route and the least frustrating.  He was curious to learn how he and Kamski managed to hide their relationship too, but really, he was more invested in his current roommate’s past, who he was and what exactly happened to land him where he was now.</p><p>He sat back and listened as Connor started his own story, about Lieutenant Anderson.  Conan had heard plenty about him, it was hard <em> not </em> to hear about him, but all he’d heard were rumors.  He didn’t know anything concrete or anything that might help Connor with his problem too.  He had to laugh when Connor mentioned being assaulted though.  “You threatened a police lieutenant?” Conan asked, amused, but he kept it reined in.  “At least it was just your first day.  Maybe tomorrow will be better?  If not, you could always come over and we could watch some of our favorite shows until you feel better again?”  He wasn’t sure how helpful his offer would be, but at least it was something.  “Have you looked into his old partner at all?  Done any research?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Connor hummed curiously, and picked at his burger, pulling out a pickle slice from between the buns and patty and eating it on its own. Usually, Connor was always at least mildly interested in the cases related to Conan’s ghosts. But this one in particular had his attention front and centre, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it was because of the ties to Kamski. If he was Kamski’s brother, why had the richest man in the world not settled his death? Usually, Conan’s “guests” were lingering for some kind of reason. There were so many questions, which naturally captured Connor’s attention in a case. </p><p>“Hmm? Oh. I threatened to report him if he continued to refuse to work,” Connor said, walking back to the counter and bringing his and Conan’s drinks back over, as well as the fries. “I knew he wasn’t going to love the threat, but I thought it’d nudge him into doing something. Instead he threw me up against the fridge and told me to back off. He’s… incredibly tall…”</p><p>At Conan’s offer to come over and watch shows together, Connor smiled and looked at his burger. He really wanted to take him up on that. But they’d already had dinner together that night, watching movies the following night wasn’t exactly getting distance from one another. He didn’t answer, but the smile stayed on his face all the same. </p><p>“All I know is that I'm sitting at his old desk, and filling his position. It’s a very sensitive subject, I don't have the rapport with anyone to ask about it. I might use Lieutenant Anderson as a starting point for research when things get slow tomorrow, i dunno…”</p><p>Connor leant his elbow on the table and turned his attention to Conan, watching him as they finished their meals. </p><p>“Are you attracted to the ghost? You don’t seem to mind the attention - you’re very nonchalant about it. Is it the attention you like?” Connor asked, but there wasn’t any antagonism. He just seemed curious and blunt, as always. “You could potentially retire, if this ghost’s death is relevant to Kamski. It’s a very lucky break, I hope he comes back so you can talk to him. Keep me updated on this one, okay?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan rolled his eyes, smiling as he shook his head.  It was just like Connor to make enemies on his first day at work, but he hadn’t quite expected him to make enemies with someone quite so significant.  He knew Anderson was someone Connor had admired before and while he might not quite live up to Connor’s expectations, Conan hoped the two could get along eventually, especially if they were going to be partners.</p><p>“I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually,” Conan commented, taking a sip of his soda when Connor brought it over.  “It’s not easy to stay mad at you.”  <em> He </em> never could, anyway.  “You know, I <em> could </em> come by the precinct.  Maybe he’s still hanging around, I could try talking to him, figure out some things myself for you?  Or if you could just get a name or an approximate death date, I could try looking into it.  Knowing about his partner might help you two get along better, or at least maybe it would help you understand the lieutenant better.”</p><p>It was worth a shot, at least, and Conan didn’t exactly have any work to do for the time being.  His office wasn’t set up yet and he hadn’t established himself with the police force yet, he didn’t have anything ready to take on any new clients, but he needed some sort of project to work on in the meantime.</p><p>He ate his burger, getting a little lost in his own head while he picked at the fries, only being pulled back to reality when Connor spoke again.  “What?  No, of course not,” he said as if Connor’s question was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard, shaking his head.  “I just…  I don’t know, he’s not awful, I don’t mind him being around.  You know how I am, I’m used to them, they don’t bother me, and it <em> is </em> kind of lonely without you there, so…  I don’t mind if he sticks around for now, I just want some space and privacy.  I’ve never really liked being the center of attention, you know that.”</p><p>And as for Kamski…  Connor was right.  If he closed whatever case Kamski had his lawyers working on, he could potentially wind up set for life.  He wouldn’t have to live in his one bedroom apartment.  He could get a house, live comfortably, and never have to work again.  “But I don’t think I <em> want </em> to retire.  I like my work,” Conan said with a small shrug, eating a few more fries now that his burger was gone.  “I don’t want to take his money.  Not if that case involves his brother.  It doesn’t feel right, getting paid to tell him his brother is dead.  If he hired me to find out what happened, that’s another story…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Connor sighed, and smiled as he shook his head. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know if Hank’s dead partner was still haunting the precinct. He also didn’t want to have to explain why he knew things he shouldn’t. Researching him the normal way would mean that he had a reason for knowing all the things he’d find out, and wouldn’t have to lie if someone confronted him about it. </p><p>“No… As curious as I am about him, I think I should keep all my research above board,” Connor said, dusting his hands off and wiping them on his pants as he sat back, finished with dinner. He believed Conan when he said he wasn’t attracted to the ghost, as well as when he explained that it was because he didn’t like being the centre of attention. That was another way they differed - Connor <em> did </em> like attention, and wasn’t afraid to demand it when he needed it. </p><p>“Kamski isn’t going to take kindly to you calling him up and saying that you know his brother is dead, <em> if </em> you get through to him at all. He likely gets weirdos calling him up all the time, and he’ll lump you in with them,” Connor pointed out. “I understand that you don’t want to take advantage of him, and I agree. But don’t let him take advantage of you, either. Know your worth, Conan. You deserve to be paid for solving a case, even if ‘solving’ it just means the ghost told you what happened.” Connor leant over, and gently nudged Conan’s shoulder. “You have an invaluable skill that nobody else has, which arguably makes you the most valuable private investigator in America, if not the world. I can’t tell you how many times i’ve wished i could talk to the victim in a murder case. If i find out you’ve turned down Kamski’s money, i’m going to push you out of a window, Conan.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Connor declined his offer, Conan just nodded in understanding and left it at that.  He didn’t blame Connor for wanting to find things out on his own, the “normal” way.  There would be less questions from his coworkers that way, or at least questions Connor could answer.  If Conan found things out for him <em> his </em> way, he wouldn’t exactly be able to explain how he got those answers without making one or both of them sound crazy.  So, it was probably for the best that Connor did things on his own.</p><p>What Conan had said about disliking being the center of attention was true, he didn’t like being focused on when he didn’t <em> want </em> to be.  He didn’t mind attention when he asked for it.  He craved it sometimes.  But his denial of being attracted to Kamski’s dead brother?  It was exactly that; denial.  He hadn’t had the chance to <em> really </em> look at him, but from what he managed to see before he ran off, the guy <em> was </em> pretty good looking.  He wasn’t <em> not </em> attracted to him.  But he wasn’t so sure he wanted to say that he <em> was </em> attracted to him when he’d only really caught glances and maybe looked at him for a solid minute.  Not yet, anyway.</p><p>Conan sighed as he listened to Connor speak, nodding along.  He knew Kamski wouldn’t be happy to hear his brother was dead, and he knew it was probably going to be next to impossible to get through to him at all, but he was going to have to try.  He just needed some evidence to back himself up with before he went to him with anything.  He smiled when Connor nudged his shoulder, looking down at their fries.  “I need to find some proof before I mention anything to him.  I can’t just call him and tell him his brother’s dead and I know because he told me so, I need some sort of evidence.  He’s a scientist, he’s not gonna believe me without proof,” he said with a sigh.  “He might not even offer me any money.  I’ll consider taking it, if he offers, but I don’t know…  I know if someone told me you were dead, I wouldn’t want to give them anything.  But we don’t know how close they were, so…  I guess we’ll find out.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Connor smiled, and huffed out a laugh, giving a nod of his head. He didn’t tell Conan very often, but he often thought about what would happen if he died. The probability of him dying first was high - Connor was a cop, and got put in the line of fire much more than Conan did. </p><p>“At least if i die first, we can say goodbye to each other,” Connor pointed out, shrugging. </p><p>It wasn’t long before Connor kicked his brother out. He had an early start, and he wanted to shower and head to bed early so he’d be at his best to deal with Hank Anderson. He thanked Conan for dinner, and locked the door behind him, turning to frown into his pindrop-silent apartment. He hoped he got used to living alone fast. </p><p>Conan would be blessed with a quiet apartment as well. Gavin stayed away during the night and all of the following morning. It was just before lunch that Gavin reappeared, loitering in the kitchen with his hands shoved into his jacket. His posture was defensive, and he was still deeply embarrassed. But he had things he wanted to ask, things he wanted the guy to do for him that he couldn’t do on his own, and… well, he was just starved for company, too. </p><p>The guy was sitting at the dining table, and Gavin’s eyebrows furrowed together as he quietly stared at him. Slowly, carefully, he tiptoed around him, circling the man as he kept an eye on his face. Gavin came to a stop just beside him, and reached up to scratch his whiskery face. He then leant over, his hands still in his pockets as he tried to see the man’s face. </p><p>“Hey man, can… Can you see me?” Gavin asked, sounding both hopeful and apprehensive at once. “Hello?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan gave Connor an unimpressed look when he commented about dying first.  He hated thinking about Connor dying.  Sure, he’d be able to see him and tell him goodbye, but the thought of losing him, not being able to see him after he moved on, never being able to have meals together, sleepovers, movie nights, anything -- it killed him.  He didn’t want to think about it, so he was more than happy to end the conversation there.</p><p>He could have easily stayed longer and talked with him all night, but he understood when Connor finally decided to kick him out.  It was late, they both needed sleep, and Connor had to be up early, so despite being as reluctant as he was, Conan said his goodbyes and returned back home.  He was surprised to see that his apartment was still empty.  He had expected his new ghost friend to be back by now, but the place was quiet.  After locking up the apartment, turning off all of the lights, and getting changed, he climbed in bed and went to sleep.</p><p>When morning came, Conan was even more surprised that the ghost was nowhere to be found.  He didn’t bother getting fully dressed, just keeping on his pajama bottoms and pulling on a t-shirt before he started his day.  He had breakfast and spent his morning setting up all of his electronics, getting everything connected to his wifi and setting up his desk.  By the time he was done with everything, it was lunchtime.</p><p>Conan had only just sat down at the dining table with his lunch and his laptop when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, soon followed by a voice.  He looked up, brows raising in surprise for a second.  “Hey,” he greeted.  “You’re back.  I’m…  sorry for snapping at you yesterday.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin straightened up when he was looked at, his own eyebrows raising up. He had the most <em> beautiful </em> blue eyes, framed by the heavy black lashes he’d noticed the day before. He really was a gorgeous looking man. Everything about him took Gavin’s breath away, and he knew if he’d met him at a bar or in a club, he wouldn’t have been able to leave him alone. </p><p>“It’s fine,” Gavin said quickly, frowning at him. He tried to look away, but Gavin’s gaze flicked back to him almost immediately. “Sorry for being a fucking creep. Wouldn’t have said any of that shit if i knew you could hear me,” Gavin said, sniffing and looking down at his feet as a hot knot of embarrassment balled in his throat. </p><p>He didn’t say anything for a while, just scowling down at his shoes and shifting his weight a little. His face stayed tilted down, but he raised his eyes to look at Conan again, his jaw working as he tried to decide what to say first. </p><p>“Hey, uh… I’m dead, aren’t i? Like, i’m a ghost right now, right?” Gavin asked unhappily, shifting his weight again. “You’re one of those bullshit mediums I never believed in, aren’t you? As in, you can see dead people. Like me.” There was a pause. “You would have been a creepy kid.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Now that he had the chance to look at him, <em> really </em> look at him, he really was handsome.  To anyone else, he probably looked pretty average, but despite generally not caring about looks, Conan still had a type, and he was looking at him.  So maybe he was a little attracted to him.  It didn’t matter, he couldn’t touch him or be touched by him.  They could never go on dates, get drinks together, kiss, or anything.  So he pushed those thoughts away and tried to ignore the fact that this guy was also clearly attracted to him and instead, just shook his head.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it.  I should have said something sooner,” he said, letting that part of the conversation end there and hoping it was over and done with so they wouldn’t have to talk about what happened the day before again.  He took a couple bites of his sandwich, waiting on him to speak again, and frowning when he did.</p><p>“Yeah,” Conan answered, and despite the weight of the topic, he managed a short huff of a laugh at his next question.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I am.”  He used his foot to push one of the chairs at the table out enough to be sat in, nodding towards it.  “You can sit down, if you want.  You don’t have to stand there.  What’s your name?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Despite knowing he was dead, despite there being very little else he could be, getting that confirmation that he was really gone both upset Gavin, and took a weight off his shoulders. It eliminated the what-if, and meant he could finally stop waiting - to wake up, to rise from his coma, to be resuscitated. It wasn’t going to happen, he was gone, and that was that. </p><p>Gavin looked at the chair when it was pushed out, and didn’t hesitate to shift and sit down in it. Gavin leant his elbow on the table and put his head against his fist, gazing over at the man and his pretty blue eyes. </p><p>“Yeah, i thought so. I think I got murdered. I think my body is dumped in someone’s yard,” Gavin said matter-of-factly, if anything seeming annoyed about it. He sighed with a bit of a groan and tipped his head back, scrubbing his hands over his face. </p><p>“I’m Gavin. You?” he asked, straightening in his chair and looking over at him. “It’s the middle of the damn day, why aren’t you at work?”</p><p>But despite his question, Gavin fidgeted and shifted in his chair, working up the courage to ask his next question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of asking it, but rather, what the result would be. </p><p>“Could you do me a favour? Could you call the pound, ask if they got any calico cats?” Gavin asked, his knee jumping nervously. “She should have a collar, and she’s microchipped. Her name’s Prince. Can you do that for me?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he didn’t bother trying to hide it this time.  “Really?” he asked.  “Can you describe it?  Do you know where, or who did it?”  That would explain the case Kamski had open.  It meant it was likely that he <em> was </em> murdered, and he wasn’t the only one to suspect that to be the case.  If he knew who the murderer was, Conan could tell Connor, and they could finally close the case.</p><p>“I’m Conan,” he replied.  “I’m a private investigator, I don’t have any clients here yet, I just moved here from Chicago.  My office isn’t set up yet, I have a lot of work to do before I can start taking on new clients again, so…  I can have some downtime, until I get established here.  I can afford it, for a while.  Once I start working, I won’t be here very often except to sleep, probably.”</p><p>That was how it had been back in Chicago.  He’d spent most of his time at work, unless he brought it home to work on.  He made exceptions for nights he and Connor had plans, but otherwise, he kept himself busy with work.  It was probably going to be the same now, too.  He’d work most of the time and only ever take time off to spend the evening with Connor.  Although for now, his work was probably going to be Gavin.  He wanted to help solve his murder and maybe get him some peace, so he could move on.</p><p>Conan nodded when Gavin asked him to call the pound, fishing his phone from his pocket.  “Do you know when she would have gone?  Calicos are popular, they’re not gonna be able to tell me if it’s her for sure if they don’t know the intake date,” he said, looking up the local shelter’s number.  “You said you have a brother, right?  Wouldn’t he have taken her?  Or maybe a friend?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin shook his head, frowning again as he tried to think back to what happened. </p><p>“I dunno where. But it’s in the backyard of this huge red brick mansion. The place looks abandoned, but there’s lights on at night. And there’s this creepy fuckin’ basement lined with like, caged doors,” Gavin said, looking over at him. “I’m a detective. I think something happened when I went snooping around. You need a warrant to enter someone’s property so i always used to just snoop around off duty if i couldn’t get one. I think I fucked up,” he muttered, combing a hand through his hair. </p><p>But when Conan introduced himself as a PI, Gavin perked up completely. A wide grin slapped itself across his face, wrinkling his nose and creasing his eyes. Gavin leaned forward and smacked his hands together excitedly, letting out a “<em> fuck yes! Finally, some good fuckin’ news.” </em></p><p>It was looking like a good day, his first good day in a long time, and Gavin rubbed his hands against his thighs excitedly when Conan agreed to call the pound. </p><p>“I dunno, a week. Maybe two,” Gavin said, giving his rough estimate. It only felt like a day or two, but he knew it was much longer than that. “Eli hates pets, and Tina’s apartment has a no animal policy or i’d have gotten her a kitten years ago,” Gavin said, getting up and pacing a little. “She’s got, uh. Like a black nose, and one of her ears is totally black, too. But her collar should say Prince,” Gavin said, combing through his hair again as he waited for Conan to get off the phone with the pound. </p><p>When it was clear that the pound had no calico cats, and hadn’t for weeks, Gavin yelled and let out a heated, “Fuck! <em> Damn it!” </em> as he paced to the window, and then back to the dining table. </p><p>“You’ve gotta call my brother, you--” Gavin stopped as he realised that <em> just </em> calling Elijah was almost impossible. They had a secret, and telling Conan who he was meant that he was breaking it. But Conan was also the only person in the world who could hear him. </p><p>“My brother’s Elijah Kamski, and if you start being weird about it i’ll kick your fuckin’ ass,” Gavin said, meaning the threat despite not really knowing how he’d carry it out. “And if you give his number out to people i’ll fuckin’, i dunno, i’ll haunt you or something. And if you stalk him i’ll figure out a way to push you down a flight of stairs. Don’t you fuckin’ fanboy, alright? I just wanna know where Prince is. You’ve gotta call him and ask,” Gavin demanded hotly, before all the air left him, and he added, a little quieter, “Please.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>A big red brick mansion really didn’t narrow down the list of possible locations.  There were a lot more mansions in Detroit than most people seemed to realize.  It wouldn’t be feasible for Conan to visit every one until he happened to find the right one.  It could take years.  “Do you happen to remember what you were investigating?” Conan asked, hopeful that maybe they could find <em> something </em> for him to follow up on.  He’d just have to be extra careful if he decided to follow his trail, to make sure he didn’t wind up like him.</p><p>Conan wasn’t really sure Gavin had the date right, but he didn’t question him about it.  He hadn’t thought to check the date Kamski’s case had been opened, and he didn’t know how long his apartment had been empty.  He thought it was longer than just two weeks though.  He nodded as he dialed the shelter’s number, asking if they got any calicos in within the last two weeks, and gave them Gavin’s description of her.  When they told him no, Conan shook his head at Gavin, lips pressed into a thin line as he thanked them and hung up.</p><p>“Are you <em> sure </em> it’s only been two weeks?” he asked, pulling up his texts to text Connor.  He needed to know when the case had been opened.  If it did involve Gavin, that could give him an approximate death date.  He could call back the shelter, if he had a better idea of the time frame they would have got her.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/>
<b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/>
<b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> Hey, can you do me a favor?  I need to know when Kamski opened that case.  If it really is related to his brother, that should be about when he died, right?  He’s saying it’s been a week or two, but that doesn’t sound right to me.</p>
</blockquote><p>Conan sighed when Gavin said he had to call his brother.  He already knew who his brother was, he knew he wasn’t going to get through to him.  He could try, but he doubted he’d get in touch.  At least, using his public number.  When Gavin told him his name and threatened him, Conan rolled his eyes.  “First of all, I already know who he is, you said so yesterday.  Something about how your brother, Eli, would probably like me because of my taste in movies and books, commented about him being the richest man in the world?  It was easy to figure out,” he pointed out, trying to hide the amusement in his tone.  “And secondly, you’re already haunting me, aren’t you?”  But when Gavin tacked on that softer “please” at the end, Conan’s expression softened and he sighed, nodding with his own softer “okay.”</p><p>Once Gavin gave him Elijah’s number, Conan dialed it, looking up at him before he hit the call button.  “What am I even supposed to ask him?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan reminding Gavin of what he’d said the day before had him flushing, because he’d also said something utterly filthy and, frankly, unacceptable, too. He’d said it thinking that he couldn’t be heard. And when it was pointed out that he was already haunting Conan, Gavin bristled and almost told him not to be such a smartass, only for him to agree to call Elijah. Now wasn’t the time to think about how pretty Conan was when he smirked like that.</p><p>He gave Conan the number, watching him dial it into his phone with no small amount of anxiety. This was Elijah’s private number. His personal number. Gavin could count on one hand the amount of people who had it, and he was afraid of what Elijah was going to do to Conan if he called it. Elijah had charged people in the past, but Gavin didn’t think it would come to that if Conan kept it short. </p><p>“Just ask him where Prince is,” Gavin said sharply, frowning over at Conan. “Don’t tell him you can see dead people or he’ll hang up on you, just say you’re a friend of mine and you’re worried about my damn cat,” he said, glancing at the front door and then back at Conan. “He’s gonna be pissed you’ve got this number, just roll with it. Tell him i’m a traitor or whatever.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/>
<b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/>
<b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> The case was opened on the 11th April 2037. If it’s about him, he’s been dead a lot longer than two weeks. Just over a year.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan nodded, checking Connor’s text first.  He kept his expression neutral, despite how surprised he was by the date in Connor’s message.  A year.  Definitely more than just two weeks.  <em> If </em> she had been at the shelter, she probably wouldn’t be now.  She probably would have been adopted by now.  He hoped Elijah had her, because if not, their chances of finding her were slim to none.  He sighed and hit the call button, putting the phone on speaker so Gavin could hear too.  The phone rang a couple times before it was finally answered, a confused and annoyed “Hello?” coming from the other line.</p><p>“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you.  I got your number from Gavin, I’m a friend of his.  I’m worried about his cat, Prince.  Do you happen to know where she went?  I called the shelter but she isn’t there, and Tina’s apartment doesn’t allow pets, so I was hoping you might know where she is,” Conan explained.  The other line was silent for a moment before Elijah finally spoke again.</p><p>“I have her,” he answered, all hostility gone from his voice.  “She’s fine.  Is that all?”</p><p>Conan looked up at Gavin for an answer, waiting on him to tell him anything else he might want to say so he could answer Elijah.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin didn’t expect Elijah’s voice to affect him the way it did. Gavin smiled a little at the way he said ‘hello’, able to imagine the expression on his face while he said it. He wondered what he was doing in that moment, what he’d been interrupted during. But when he spoke again, and confirmed Prince was living with him, Gavin abruptly looked down to the floor. He tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, and push the feeling of <em> longing </em> away from him. He should have called him more. He should have spent more time with him. </p><p>“Ask--” Gavin cleared his throat when it cracked, his shoulders hunching up. “Ask if he’s pulled his head out of his ass and gotten laid, yet,” Gavin said, his voice incredibly rough. “Tell him that she only eats tuna, and only cat tuna. Don’t feed her the chicken, she’s not gonna eat it. And don’t let her have free-flow kibble or she’ll get fat. And you’ve gotta trim her nails or she’ll get stuck to shit and start crying. And you can’t feed her human food or--” Gavin cut himself off and walked away, back over to the window, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was just a cat, why did he care so much? But Gavin knew that thought was unfair. That little cat was all he really had. And for some reason, hearing that his brother, who liked to keep his home neat and tidy and didn’t like pets had come and taken her in, made Gavin want to sit on the floor and cry like a baby. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan listened as Gavin listed things off, his lips pressed into a thin line.  It was such a shitty situation for both of them.  He could tell by the tone of Elijah’s voice that he was unhappy.  He’d been annoyed at first, probably because he’d been called by an unknown number, but now that he knew the call was about Gavin, Conan could hear the sadness in his voice.  He was sure Gavin could too.  It was clear that Gavin was upset too, but Conan couldn’t tell if it was because of Elijah or because of Prince.</p><p>He wasn’t going to ask if Elijah had gotten laid yet, but he could tell him what Gavin said about the cat.  “What do you feed her?  He fed her tuna cat food, she doesn’t like the chicken kind, no human food either.  You can’t leave the food out, or she’ll get fat,” Conan said gently, repeating the things Gavin was saying.  “Her nails need to be trimmed too, or she’ll get stuck to things.”</p><p>“I know,” Elijah said, his voice a little rough.  “When he--  When I got her, there were still some cans left.  I just got the same ones once she ran out.”  He went quiet for a moment, sniffing before he spoke again.  “I figured that out on my own.  She already got stuck to the couch once.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin’s shoulders bunched up, his eyebrows furrowing, and his weight leaning away from Conan. Tears ran hot and thick down Gavin’s cheeks, and he looked out the window so Conan wouldn’t see him crying. All the things he wanted to say, he couldn’t say in a conversation about Prince. But he said the one that weighed on him the most, even if Conan couldn’t really repeat it. </p><p>“I’m sorry for dying, Eli. I’m sorry for doing that to you,” he said roughly, wiping his face on his shoulder, and then clearing his throat with a miserable cough. “Just hang up. Tell him thanks and hang up.”</p><p>When Gavin had composed himself a little, he wandered back to the seat Conan had pushed out for him and sat down in it, his head in his hands. He rubbed his face, miserable, and sat back with a frustrated sigh. </p><p>“I wish i’d been murdered with a packet of cigarettes in my pocket, fuck…” Gavin said, looking down as he picked at a bit of dry skin on his thumb. “Tell me about yourself,” Gavin grouched, looking up at Conan as he chewed on the piece of skin he’d been picking. “You got a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Back in Chicago. You’re way too fuckin’ hot to be single, so what is it?” Gavin asked, still sounding unhappy. “How long’ve you been a PI?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It couldn’t have been easy for either of them.  Conan thought Elijah might have been crying too, if his tone of voice, silence, and that sniff was anything to go by.  He sighed and nodded when Gavin told him to just thank him and hang up.  “Thank you.  I’ll let you go.  Goodbye,” he said, hanging up.  He sat back in his seat, picking up his phone so he could save Elijah’s number to his contacts in case he needed to get back in touch with him again.</p><p>He kept to himself while he waited for Gavin to come back over, taking the time to make a new folder on his laptop for Gavin’s case.  He opened up a document and typed out the things he knew so far, listing Gavin’s description of the yard and the mansion and the case Elijah opened along with its date.  He saved the document and minimized it for now, pushing his laptop away by the time Gavin came back to join him at the table.</p><p>Conan sat back again with a sigh, shaking his head.  “No, no boyfriend or girlfriend.  Just a job and a twin I spend most of my time with.  Or, spent, I guess.  We’re trying to be more independent.  We’ve never lived apart before,” he answered with a small shrug.  “It’s been about seven years, I think?  Give or take a few months.  How long have you been a detective?  Did you work for the DPD?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin looked at Conan with renewed, obvious interest. So he was single. Gavin was honestly surprised; so far, he seemed like a decent guy, and with a face like that he had no idea how someone hadn’t swooped in yet. Gavin’s eyes made a slow journey down Conan’s body as the familiar hope that maybe this whole thing could result in him getting laid edged in… only for Gavin to remember that no, actually, that hope was impossible. It didn’t stop Gavin’s interest, though. </p><p>“Twins? Jesus. You guys play pranks on people at school?” Gavin asked, finally smiling again. “How does he handle your ‘<em> I see dead people’ </em> bullshit?” he asked with a huff of laughter, relaxing back into the chair as he crossed his arms across his chest. </p><p>“Yeah, I worked at Central. I was damn good at my job, too. I love my work. I’m bored out of my fucking mind like this, i can’t hold anything, can’t even read a book. Tina called me a workaholic and I never believed her until this. I’m going crazy with nothing to do.” Gavin paused, and seemed to debate his next words. He shrugged, and then gave a sniff. “At least I can yap to you, now…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Conan chuckled and shook his head.  “No, we couldn’t really get away with it.  We’re identical, but he has brown eyes, and there are enough subtle differences between us that people would be able to tell who is who, even if we tried colored contacts and dressing like each other,” he explained.  “He handles it better than most people.  It can be helpful sometimes, but other times, it’s miserable, and he’s seen both sides of it.  He’s the only one I can really talk to about any of this.”</p><p>He listened as Gavin spoke, thinking to himself about what he could do to try to help him find things to do throughout the day.  “You know, if you want something to do, I can leave the TV on for you.  I’m not sure if you can interact with touch screens very well, but I could leave my tablet on too, if you wanna read or something.  I know some electronics respond well to your touch or your voice, so we could play around with things, see what does?  Might save you from boredom whenever I <em> do </em> start working.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. You Look Like You've Seen A Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin investigates the red brick manor he keeps finding himself outside of, and uncovers some gory details about his last moments. Conan discovers something different about his new house guest that are both troubling, and great. </p><p>Connor has a chance encounter with a stranger at a bar, who turns out to be the last person he expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ay so, this chapter is pretty heavy with the kamcon. If that's not your cup of tea, just scroll until you hit the double line break (about halfway down, this is a loooong chapter), which is where the Reed900 picks back up again &lt;3 </p><p>Warnings for this chapter:<br/>- There's some fairly descriptive gore. It only lasts for about 2 or 3 posts but it's there<br/>- There's just like, the most gratuitous sex scene. They fuck for like 10 pages. I'm both sorry but not sorry.</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski<br/>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor glared daggers into the back of Hank’s head as he marched into a bar, giving Connor little choice but to follow. He’d been impossible all day, dragging his feet, and being unhelpful and nonchalant about all of their cases. It was driving Connor insane, but if Hank’s yelling match with the captain was anything to go by the day before, asking to work alone wouldn’t earn him any friends with his boss. </p><p>And so there was <em> nothing </em> Connor could do about finding himself in a sleazy dive of a bar at half past three in the afternoon. There was a small handful of patrons present, but the loudest voice in the room was the basketball commentator on the TV hanging behind the bar. Hank seated himself at the seat furthest from the door and ordered a double shot of whiskey, and so Connor settled a little further out, leaving a polite single stool of distance between himself and another man. </p><p>“Just iced water, thank you,” Connor said politely, smiling at the bartender. “And a wedge of lime. Thanks.”</p><p>Connor was dressed in a pair of crisp, dark denim jeans, and a pale blue woolen sweater he had partially tucked in the front. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, as though he’d taken the time to fold each roll rather than scrunch it, and his hair was pushed into a side part that quiffed precariously, threatening to fall into his eyes. In a bar like this, he looked as though he were begging to get beaten up. But Connor didn’t seem threatened; he just pushed his lime wedge beneath the ice with a fingertip, and took a shallow sip. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After getting off of the phone, Elijah couldn’t clear his head enough to get back to work.  He didn’t want to be cooped up inside all day, and he knew if any of the girls saw him, they’d ask what was wrong and he couldn’t find it in himself to explain it to them.  Some days were easier than others.  Sometimes he was able to completely forget his brother, his only family he even cared about, with the exception of Gavin’s mother, was gone.  But then there were days where something reminded him of him and it was impossible to think of anything else for the rest of the day.</p><p>Elijah was never much of a drinker.  He rarely ever got drunk, unless it was with Gavin on a holiday, but when the police had ended their search for him, had said his case had gone cold and declared Gavin dead, he drank until he couldn’t feel anymore.  He got drunk on days he couldn’t get his mind off him.  And thanks to that phone call, from some mysterious friend of Gavin’s, today was one of those days.  Or at least, he planned on it.</p><p>He didn’t bother changing out of his usual t-shirt and jeans, but he did pull on one of Gavin’s old police academy hoodies he kept tucked away in the back of his closet.  His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, hood pulled up in an attempt to help disguise himself.  He didn’t go out into the public often, and he hadn’t, really, for ten years.  The public hardly knew what he looked like anymore, he got away with going out without being bothered.  He definitely didn’t want to be bothered now, though, so the hood was going to stay up, even after he found a seat at the bar at one of the places Gavin used to frequent.  Elijah never went to bars, not unless Gavin dragged him to one in their early years in Detroit.  It had been fifteen years since then, give or take, but since Gavin disappeared, going to them made him feel closer to him.</p><p>He was staring down at the glass in his hand when he heard a voice beside him at the bar.  He hadn’t even noticed someone sit there, just a seat over.  He felt numb, he wasn’t paying attention to the world around himself, but that voice was new, and most of the people in the bar already were people he’d recognized from his previous visits within the last year.</p><p>Elijah glanced over at him, looking him over.  He was dressed too nicely to be there, he didn’t fit in at all.  Elijah couldn’t really say the same about himself, but that was always the case when he visited the bar.  He always looked like a mess, barely held together.  His eyes were almost always at least a little red and puffy from crying, and he almost always looked tired.  He was in better shape today, but he’d still been crying prior to coming to the bar.  Finding someone better dressed than him at the bar was a surprise, and he was even more surprised that he actually thought this guy was attractive.  He never thought he’d go for anyone that visited one of Gavin’s bars, but then again, this guy didn’t belong there.</p><p>“You don’t look like you belong here,” Elijah commented, his voice still a little rough.  He took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat, sounding much better when he spoke again.  “What brought you here?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor was surprised when he was spoken to. He turned his shoulders, looking over at the man in a hoodie and taking in his appearance. He looked as though he’d had an incredibly rough day. He’d been crying, and Connor was sure the whiskey in his hands wasn’t his first. Usually, playful sarcasm would be Connor’s first choice in replies. But this man was already at the end of his rope, and Connor didn’t want the joke to fall flat and make him look like an asshole. </p><p>“I’m a detective. My partner needed a drink, and since he’s my superior…” Connor smiled and nodded towards the sad piece of citrus bobbing around in the ice. Connor wasn’t afraid of meeting the man’s gaze, which he held as he took him in. There was no recognition in his face, just curiosity. </p><p>He decided then and there that he wasn’t going to ask the man why he was at the bar. It wasn’t for anything joyful, and if he wanted Connor to know, he didn’t doubt he’d find a way to tell him. </p><p>“You have very striking eyes, if you don’t mind me saying. They’re a beautiful shade of pale blue,” Connor took a sip of his water, still looking at him while he did it. “Did you know that blue eyes are a recessive trait? If you have a child with someone who has brown or hazel eyes, that child’s chance of having blue eyes drops dramatically. Eyes your colour, genetically speaking, are very rare.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah nodded in understanding, not bothering to question him further on the topic.  He didn’t want to talk about the police.  He didn’t recognize this particular detective, though.  Either he worked for a precinct other than Central, or he was new.  Elijah was familiar with most of the other officers and detectives at Central, he’d either seen them in passing or heard about them from Gavin, and he knew Gavin never told him about this guy.</p><p>He was relieved he didn’t bother asking why <em> he </em> was there.  Elijah thought it was pretty obvious why he was there, even if the specific reason why wasn’t quite as obvious.  He was clearly upset about something and drinking to numb the pain.  Had Connor asked why, Elijah wasn’t so sure he’d be able to answer him.</p><p>When Connor mentioned his eyes, Elijah rose a brow as he listened, a small smile creeping onto his face.  He was a little impressed, the guy was well dressed <em> and </em> smart.  The easiest way to win Elijah over was through science, or some other shared interest, and he already had his attention, more so now.  “Genetics is a fascinating subject, isn’t it?” he asked, taking another sip of his whiskey.  “I’m Elijah.  What’s your name?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The smile Connor earned was a reward all on its own. He didn’t get to cheer people up very often in his job, so it was definitely a nice change of pace. Connor’s head tilted a little as he allowed his gaze to travel down, taking in more than just his face. Despite how poorly he was dressed, he seemed healthy. He also wondered about the DPD hoodie, but again, decided not to ask. </p><p>“It is,” Connor agreed, his gaze returning to Elijah’s face. “My name is Connor. It’s good to meet you, Elijah,” he said earnestly. Picking up his drink, Connor took a deeper sip, and then used the condensation on the table to draw a biological punnett square on the wood of the bar between himself and Elijah.</p><p>“The punnett is an elementary level way of explaining biology and genetics, but it’s also neat and simple. For example,” Connor started, picking up his explanation from before and diving a little deeper into it, if only because it seemed Elijah was smart enough to follow, and interested in what he was saying. It was fun talking about something other than work that wasn’t smalltalk, and when Elijah contributed, Connor lit up with a smile and nodded along. </p><p>“I don’t get to talk to someone with a brain very often,” Connor grinned, taking another sip of his water. “What do you do for a living, Elijah?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“It’s nice to meet you too, Connor,” Elijah replied, smiling a bit wider.  He shifted a bit closer to see Connor’s drawing, listening as he continued.  His smiles came a little easier the more Connor spoke, the tension in his shoulders easing up too.  He was easy to talk to, and it was refreshing to be able to talk to someone more on his level.  People like him seemed to be so rare and hard to find.  It was one of the reasons he rarely left his house.</p><p>He wasn’t a geneticist, but Elijah knew a thing or two, plenty to contribute to the conversation.  It was easy to get lost in it, forget about why he was there for a while and just talk about science, one of his favorite subjects, with someone who actually understood what he was saying.  He let Connor lead the conversation, contributing here and there, but he didn’t let himself take over.  He was glad to see that Connor seemed to be just as excited to talk with someone who seemed to understand the topic as he was, though.</p><p>“I don’t either, honestly.  I…” he started, trailing off when he realized he didn’t really know how to answer.  He’d been kicked out of his own company, he didn’t <em> work </em> anymore.  He didn’t have to.  He had his own little projects to work on when he wanted to, but he didn’t have to do anything for a living, not with how much money he had.  But he couldn’t really say that.  Connor didn’t recognize him, and if he did, he was doing a good job hiding it.  He didn’t want to admit to being who he was, or admitting to doing anything android related.  He picked up his drink and took a sip, giving him a small shrug.  “I guess I don’t do anything for a living anymore…  I’m retired, I suppose.  But I’m a scientist.  Not a geneticist, and <em> definitely </em> not a chemist, but I’ve studied things here and there, especially since my… retirement.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Retired…?” Connor asked, distracted as Hank started moving in his peripheral. Connor tried to keep his attention on Elijah while also keeping track of Hank, finding that despite his eagerness to get back to work, he didn’t want to leave his conversation with Elijah just yet. And so Connor missed the pregnant pauses and heavy editing of Elijah’s explanation, his gaze instead following Hank as he paid the bartender and promptly left, making zero effort to wait for Connor. </p><p>“Lieutenant!” Connor called after him, digging some cash and a pen out of his pocket. He put the cash tip next to the glass of water, and began quickly writing down his number on a napkin in clean, crisp numerals. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Connor said in a rush. “But i can’t meet mysterious, intelligent, tragically beautiful men in strange bars without giving them my number. Have a nice day, Elijah - and no pressure if you aren’t interested,” Connor said, not waiting to hear a reply before he dashed for the bar door and hurried after Hank, who had already started the car. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah wasn’t exactly sure how to even explain why or how he, a thirty-five year old man, was already retired without giving away who he was.  He didn’t want to burst his little bubble of normality so quickly.  It was nice talking to someone who was so intelligent, attractive, and easy to get along with, without the knowledge of who he was getting in the way.  No mention of wealth or fame, just talking about things he loved, with one exception.  He couldn’t answer his question, but it seemed he didn’t have to.</p><p>Someone on the other side of him seemed to catch Connor’s attention, and Elijah realized just who it was after Connor had called after him.  Lieutenant Hank Anderson, his brother’s partner.  He didn’t know him well, but he knew him well enough to know he probably left in such a hurry because he realized who was sitting at the bar, chatting with his new partner.  Gavin’s replacement.  But Elijah couldn’t even be angry, because he <em> liked </em> Connor.  He was intrigued by him, he wanted to talk to him again, and he didn’t want their conversation to be over just because Hank was in a mood.</p><p>He hadn’t even noticed Connor writing down his number, until he mentioned it.  He looked down at the neatly written numbers on the napkin and opened his mouth to reply, to thank him and to say goodbye, but he was already gone.  He sighed, downing the rest of his drink before pulling his wallet from his pocket to pay for his drink.  He tucked a folded bill under the edge of his glass, enough to cover his drinks and then some, and slipped his wallet and Connor’s number into his pocket before standing to leave.</p><p>Talking with Connor had improved his mood significantly.  He got back to work when he made it back home, and spent the rest of his afternoon working until he was finally pulled away for dinner.  He wound up laying on the couch with Prince curled up behind his knees while he watched TV with Chloe, Cleo, and Claire after dinner, waiting to give Connor a little time to get home after work and have his own dinner before he decided to finally text him.  He fished his number from his pocket and saved it to his phone as a contact before typing up a message.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I don’t often meet intelligent, tragically beautiful men at that bar.  I really enjoyed our conversation this afternoon.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The rest of Connor’s day was exhausting. Hank barely spoke to him, and when he did, it wasn’t friendly. Connor got the feeling he’d done something wrong, but he had no idea what it was. Feeling emotionally berated and utterly done, Connor began the task of cooking a meal when he got home, resisting the urge to just order take out. He was in good shape, but it wouldn’t stay that way if he ate junk every night for dinner. </p><p>And so when Connor’s phone buzzed at an unknown number, he read his message first with a frown, and then a smile. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> The true tragedy is that we both find each other beautiful, but I was whisked away like Cinderella at midnight just when we were just starting to get to know each other. </p>
</blockquote><p>I enjoyed our conversation too. You’re very refreshing to talk to. This peer reviewed journal is fascinating imo, it goes into what we were talking about in a lot more detail. If you’re interested… [LINK]</p><p>Connor continued to cut up vegetables as he chewed the inside of his lip, glancing over at his phone every few minutes to see if Elijah replied. He was half tempted to just invite him over, it’d make things a lot easier. But talking over text was likely a better idea at the start, especially since he hadn’t done a background check yet.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor’s abrupt departure truly was a tragedy.  Elijah thought he could have stayed at that bar for hours, just chatting with him about various sciences, or maybe just themselves, although he was hesitant to reveal who he was just yet.  Most people fixated on the celebrity, Elijah Kamski, and the fame and fortune, and asked questions hoping for gossip or insight into his relationships, family, friends.  Some showed interest in his work, but they rarely ever understood enough about what he did to follow along.</p><p>He thought Connor might be different, based on their conversation earlier, but he didn’t trust easily and he wasn’t going to be convinced that Connor was different until he proved he was.  He just wanted to bask in the normalcy of their interaction so far and hope that maybe he could drag it out for a while.</p><p>However, Connor was a detective, and if he was anything like Gavin, he was going to take Elijah’s number, do a reverse number search to get his full name, and do a background check.  Elijah’s identity wasn’t going to stay a secret for long.  He knew when he texted him that he was likely going to be found out sooner than later.  He was counting on it.</p><p>Elijah opened the link so he could go back to look at it later, returning to his messages to reply.  He’d give it a read later, in bed.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> It’s a shame, truly.  I’m glad you gave me your number before you had to go.  Thank you for the link, I’ll definitely read it.  What made you so interested in genetics?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor was still arranging everything to go in the oven when he got the second message. He read the preview before opening it so Elijah wouldn’t be left on read, and put everything into the oven, setting the timer and quickly cleaning up as he went. </p><p>Grabbing his phone, Connor relocated to the couch and smiled as he read the message.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I have a twin brother. We aren’t identical, but we might as well be - you can’t tell us apart unless you see our eyes or get up close. When I was a teenager I was obsessed with genetics for a while to prove to others with science that we were separate people. As interesting as it is, I could never be a geneticist, though, there isn’t enough of a challenge for me. </p>
</blockquote><p>You mentioned you were a scientist before, but i didn’t catch what kind before i had to rush off?</p><p>Tossing his phone to the side, Connor pulled his laptop over and logged into the DPD, locating the search function and then picking his phone up again. He put in Elijah’s number and hit search… only for his eyebrows to raise all the way up. </p><p>“Oh, my god…” Connor muttered as he looked at Elijah Kamski’s passport photo, and the GPS locator that put him just below Belle Isle. Connor ran a hand over the bottom of his face, and then let out a laugh, snapping his laptop shut and putting it back onto the coffee table, before picking up his phone. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I accidentally met Elijah Kamski in a seedy bar, flirted shamelessly with him, and gave him my number. Now we’re texting each other. He called me tragically beautiful. I think i like it.</p>
  <p>I bet your day isn’t weirder than mine.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah was hardly paying attention to the show he and the girls had been watching.  Connor had almost all of his attention now that they were talking again.  He considered asking if he could call him and just excuse himself for the night, but he suspected Connor might be a little busy based on his response time.  He didn’t mind texting.</p><p>He was surprised to learn that Connor was a twin.  He could easily see how that would be enough to prompt him to look into genetics, to at least understand why they looked the way they did and why they had certain differences.  When he’d studied biology in school, he’d learned enough to pique his interest and prompt <em> him </em> to do more of his own research.  It helped him learn why he and Gavin had certain similarities, which traits they both got from which parent.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I agree, honestly.  It’s a fascinating subject, but it wouldn’t hold my interest long enough for me to dedicate my life to it.  I’m a roboticist.  Machines and AI have always intrigued me, even from a young age.  I program, design, and build them.</p>
</blockquote><p>He was sure that revelation would have helped things click into place in Connor’s brain, if he hadn’t already figured it out.  How many roboticists in Detroit were named Elijah, and how many of them were able to retire so soon after their career had only just begun?</p><p>— — —</p><p>The remainder of Conan’s day had been spent at his office, setting the place up.  He got his desk set up with his computer, set up a few filing cabinets and organized all of his things, arranged his furniture, and ordered takeout for dinner to pick up on the way home when he was done.  He still wasn’t quite ready for clients, but at least the office itself was ready for use.  He just needed to get internet set up there, and he was good to go.  He planned on spending the rest of his night at home with Chinese and TV until he eventually went to bed.</p><p>He wasn’t expecting to hear from Connor, but when he saw he had a text from him, he couldn’t help but smile.  He opened the message, eyebrows raising in surprise.  “My brother met <em> your </em> brother at a bar earlier today,” he told Gavin as he sat down on his couch with his takeout bag and phone in hand.  “Apparently they flirted and now they’re texting.”</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Wow.  Are you going to ask him out?</p>
</blockquote><p>You’re not the only one that got Elijah Kamski’s number today.  Gavin, his brother, had me call him to find out where his cat went after he died.  He came back earlier, around lunch, and we talked.  He thinks he was murdered, but he doesn’t know where or who did it, and the place he described is next to impossible to find, if I plan on solving this case within the next five years.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor read and reread Elijah’s message, trying to decide how to respond to him basically confessing who he was. He could play dumb and pretend he hadn’t picked it up, but lies were a lot of effort to maintain, and Connor wasn’t sure he could be bothered with the charade. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I was almost a roboticist. I won a place at a CyberLife engineering camp when i was younger and was taught how to code an ST200 from the ground up, and build the skull and thirium pump by hand. It was fascinating, and one of the best summers of my life. I then won a scholarship to study at the CyberLife academy, but… I’m ashamed to say I lasted less than a semester. After you were ousted the company abandoned their core ethics and became a capitalist venture. Focus on helping people and the humanisation of the machines was abandoned, and instead we were taught how to make them unsustainable to increase profits, and there was a huge focus on military. My desire to help people with robotics died in those classrooms, and I changed careers. It still fascinates me, though. </p>
</blockquote><p>Connor hesitated before sending his message, rereading it to double check that it didn’t sound as though he were schmoozing. He knew Elijah wouldn’t miss the casual acknowledgement that Connor knew who he was, but he hoped it didn’t result in Elijah clamming up or no longer messaging. Elijah was extremely famous, but that honestly wasn’t Connor’s focus. He was interesting, and very fun to talk to. If he disappeared and ended their conversation, Connor would be disappointed. The only  other person he got to talk to at his level was his brother. But Connor also knew Elijah was famously private, and so if he disappeared, he supposed he wouldn’t be surprised, either. </p><p>He smiled at the message from Conan, crossing his legs as he settled in to reply to it. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’m not sure. We’ll see. I’m definitely interested. </p>
  <p>That’s frustrating. Can you ask him to find a street name? </p>
  <p>Elijah had been crying when i found him, he was drinking whiskey in an absolutely disgusting bar. I think your call upset him. </p>
</blockquote><p>— — —</p><p>Gavin perked up when Conan spoke to him, looking up from where he’d slouched himself at the end of the couch. He was enjoying watching TV, it had been a while since he’d sat down and switched his brain off. He wished he had a beer, or something to snack on, but they were passing cravings. More than anything, he was enjoying the company. </p><p>“What?” Gavin asked, frowning at Conan. “Are you sure? Eli doesn’t leave the house, and he sure as hell doesn’t leave it to go to <em> bars </em>. He hates people,” Gavin said, scooting over to try and read Conan’s phone. “Like I'm sure your brother’s just as hot as you are, but Eli’s an alien. He’d rather fuck an android than a human. Tell your brother he’s probably just being polite, Eli doesn’t flirt with people.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hearing that Connor was almost a roboticist too was both unexpected and not all that surprising.  He was absolutely smart enough, Elijah could tell.  He had a drive and a passion that Elijah had been able to see easily despite how short their conversation had been.  He was incredibly impressed as Connor went on to list all of the things he’d done with CyberLife, how far he’d managed to go before the company ultimately started its downward spiral into greed.  He believed that if Connor had stuck with it, maybe if Elijah hadn’t lost control of the company, he would have likely become one of their top engineers.  They would have met much sooner, although he wasn’t sure Connor would have been on his radar, at least in the romance department.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I must say, I’m very impressed.  Have we met in the past?  I’m sure I would have remembered you, if we had.  I wasn’t very involved with any of the camps or the classes back then, so I doubt we would have met.  You’re very intriguing, Connor.</p>
</blockquote><p>He would have liked to go longer without Connor knowing who he was, but the fact that Connor wasn’t being <em> weird </em> about it was a huge relief.  He didn’t want to be bothered by an annoying fan, no matter how gorgeous he might have been.  The fact that Connor seemed so <em> nonchalant </em> about it was refreshing.  He just hoped it stayed that way.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Conan rose a brow at Gavin’s confusion, shrugging his shoulders.  “I don’t know, but Connor’s a detective, he would have searched his number if he didn’t know who the guy was.  If he’s talking to Elijah Kamski, he’s probably talking to Elijah Kamski,” he replied, typing up a response to Connor as he spoke.  “He said Elijah looked like he was crying, he was drinking whiskey when he ran into him.  Calling about Prince might have upset him.  He didn’t sound very happy on the phone when we called.  Connor wants to know if you were able to see any street names when you were back at that mansion last?”</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’m asking him about the street name now, I’ll keep you posted.  He said Elijah doesn’t go to bars, and he wouldn’t flirt with humans, but I’m not too convinced.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor couldn’t stop smiling. He couldn’t help it. It had been a very long time since anyone had shown him any interest, and even longer still since he’d been interested in turn. Connor found it hard to strike anything beyond friendships with people. Usually if they were dull or not on his level, he didn’t find them attractive. Elijah was absolutely not dull, and Connor suspected he might even be smarter than he was. It was exciting, and made Connor a little restless - like he had to walk in circles around the room to burn off energy. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I would have remembered if we met in the past. I don’t often meet people who are so engaging to talk to. Unless you were undercover in Chicago, I doubt we’ve ever met. You’re very intriguing to me, too. I could spend all night talking to you.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor grinned down at his phone, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He then sighed and quickly sent a second message. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Would you be interested in dinner sometime this week? Thursday?</p>
</blockquote><p>An oddly nervous thrill washed over Connor, and he got up to needlessly check on his dinner in the oven, just for something to do. He set out his plate and cutlery, and was jittery as he filled up a glass of water to the top, took a sip, and then poured it down the sink. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Connor opened the message from Conan, and felt his blood run cold. Connor’s eyebrows twitched together, and his lips pressed into a hard line. Swiping back into Elijah’s messages, Connor took a screen grab of Elijah calling him intriguing, and of his very first message, before swiping back to Conan. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I thought I was being flirted with, but I could have misread the situation. Did I make a mistake? I suppose he could have just been polite. Now I'm not sure, I'm second guessing the entire conversation. Why am i so bad at reading people but you don’t have a problem with it?</p>
  <p>[2 ATTACHMENTS]</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I just asked him out to dinner. Do I light myself on fire, or do I destroy my phone and move to Russia?</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Conan<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> This wouldn’t have happened if we were living together.</p>
</blockquote><p>— — —</p><p>Gavin snorted out a laugh as he read the messages coming in over Conan’s shoulder. He had a shit-eating grin stretched ear to ear, and wiped his eyes as the last message came through. </p><p>“Your brother’s a fuckin’ nerd, huh?” Gavin asked rhetorically, scratching his nose. “Does he talk the way he types? Goddamn, maybe Eli is into him,” Gavin scoffed. He was settled so close to Conan that he was almost in his lap, just on the verge of not touching him. He wanted to read what was on Conan’s phone, especially because it was about Elijah. </p><p>When he was asked about the street name, Gavin gave Conan an annoyed look. </p><p>“I’m a detective, dipshit. I would have given you the street name if i knew it,” Gavin said, sighing. “Next time i’m there i’ll wander around and see if i can spot it. I’ll try and get a look at the people in the house, too. Are you taking on my case?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah hadn’t stopped smiling down at his phone since he started texting Connor.  Every new piece of information he learned about him was like a breath of fresh air, and talking to him at all was refreshing.  He enjoyed talking with him, about anything, so far.  He definitely wanted to keep talking to him, as long as he didn’t start getting weird.  He knew they were still early on, they didn’t know each other very well yet, plenty of problems could arise, but for now, he seemed perfect.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Likewise.  You’re very easy to talk to.</p>
</blockquote><p>He liked that he didn’t have to dumb himself down for anyone else.  He could be himself, he didn’t have to explain everything to him, Connor knew things already.  He definitely knew he wanted to have some in depth conversations about androids, now that Connor knew who he was and Elijah knew Connor had been to studying with CyberLife in the past.  He was curious about what Connor might think of the girls, if he’d approve of their sentience or not.  He suspected he might.</p><p>The second text that came through took Elijah by surprise but had him smiling wide as he typed up a quick response.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Absolutely.  Thursday would be great.  I’m afraid I don’t have any restaurant recommendations, I’ve almost exclusively had dinner at home for the last decade or so.</p>
</blockquote><p>They had options though.  He was sure they’d find somewhere to eat.  He could always ask someone else for recommendations, he had a couple friends he could ask, or maybe one of the girls might be able to find somewhere online.  He was excited, and so incredibly nervous at the same time.  He hadn’t been on a date in over ten years.  He hadn’t been interested in anyone enough to even consider going on a date with them in so long.  This was exactly the kind of situation he would normally call or text Gavin about, to at least talk to, if Gavin couldn’t provide any useful advice.  He only had the girls now, and while he trusted their judgement, he really wished Gavin was just a text away.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Conan opened Connor’s text and read along as they came in, chuckling a little as he opened up the attachments to read through their messages.  He didn’t know Elijah, so he couldn’t exactly tell if he was <em> actually </em> interested or not, but he <em> sounded </em> like he was.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I have problems with it too, don’t worry.</p>
</blockquote><p>It probably wasn’t really reassuring, but at least it was honest.  There were a few reasons why he was still single.  Not quite being able to read people was part of it.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Conan<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> If you move to Russia and leave me here, I’ll kill you.  He sounds interested in you, give it a shot.  If he says no, he says no.  At least you tried.</p>
</blockquote><p>He sighed, nodding.  “Pretty much, yeah,” he answered with a bit of a laugh.  “I <em> hope </em> he is.  Connor needs someone to spend time with outside of work that isn’t me.”  In all honesty, Conan needed that too, but Connor was all he had.  Connor and Gavin, if you could really count him.</p><p>When Gavin commented about the street name, Conan rolled his eyes.  “<em> Any </em> kind of identifying info on the mansion, the people in it, anything at all would help so much.  We just need to narrow down the list of mansions it could possibly be.  Try to get as much info as you can for me,” he replied.  “I’m not sure how much I can dig up, but I’m going to try.  I need to know everything though, as much as you can remember about whatever you were investigating, where you went, every little detail.  I probably won’t be able to get much info from the police, so I need your help.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor made a soft, nervous sound in the back of his throat when Elijah’s reply came through. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then read the messages. The <em> relief </em> he felt was so visceral that Connor ended up laughing, smoothing his hands down his clothes as he regained his composure. </p><p>Connor quickly did a search, and read through a few reviews of a nearby restaurant, before clicking back into Elijah’s messages. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I only moved to Detroit last week, so i’m not familiar with any restaurants either. Maybe that’s an unknown we can explore together, if i don’t scare you off on Thursday… </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> When was the last time you went to an observatory? There’s a new one that opened in 2034 not far from the city. There’s an italian restaurant nearby, nothing fancy but the reviews seem fine. The observatory should be fairly quiet so i can actually hear you speak, unlike at a bar etc. Thoughts?</p>
</blockquote><p>So caught up with his conversation with Elijah, Connor forgot to reply to his brother. He browsed the observatory website to see what they had on offer. Their newest telescope could see Pluto clearly on a good night, thanks to some new technology sponsored by CyberLife. There was also a room where you could chat to an astronaut android, but Connor didn’t mind skipping that if it bothered Elijah. The entire building was supposed to be quiet during weekdays, leaving Connor hopeful for a deep conversation, and maybe a kiss goodbye if the evening went well. </p><p>— — —</p><p>Gavin frowned at Conan’s phone, his gaze unfocused as he internally debated whether or not to check if Elijah was actually into Conan’s brother or not. He hadn’t visited Elijah since that first time. It was hard being in the same room as him without Elijah acknowledging him. Gavin’s lips pressed into a hard line, before he shifted, and found himself in Elijah’s black and grey living room. It was just like it was the last time he’d been there, and all the times before that. Elijah’s androids were on the couch watching TV, and Elijah was taking up one whole couch. Gavin circled around in front of him - only to freeze when a pair of big orange eyes spotted him from where Prince was curled up behind Elijah’s legs. </p><p>Abruptly, Prince <em> yowled </em>, making Chloe jump a little from across the room. She hopped up on Elijah’s knee and turned in a circle, asking for attention, but not from Elijah. Gavin could hear her purring from where he stood, and grinned down at her. </p><p>“Can you see me, baby?” Gavin asked her, and Prince meowed, turning in a circle again. </p><p>“What is she <em> doing </em>?” Chloe asked, pushing up and walking over to pick her up off Elijah’s legs. Prince wriggled and jumped down, and began to meow up at Gavin, her tail swishing as she tried to wrap it around Gavin’s legs. Gavin held his hand out for her, but lifted his attention to Elijah. </p><p>His brother was on his phone, <em> smiling </em> like an idiot. Gavin walked around, loving that Prince followed, and read what was on Elijah’s phone over his shoulder. A date to an observatory, jesus christ. </p><p>“You’re such a fucking nerd,” Gavin said beside Elijah’s ear, reading Elijah’s reply as he typed it out. He straightened up, looking down at Prince still walking little circles at his feet, and then over at Elijah. “I miss you, asshole. If you don’t make out with him against a telecope i’ll fucking punch you,” Gavin said, shifting again, and disappearing, back to the familliar back yard. Prince squeaked when he left, and trotted back around the couch, looking up at Elijah from the floor and <em> yowling </em> unhappily up at him. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah couldn’t contain just how <em> happy </em> he was.  The day had started out alright, up until he got that phone call that drove him to the bar.  He was so glad it happened though, because he wouldn’t have met Connor otherwise.  He knew the girls had to be curious by now, and they were being surprisingly quiet, despite how he wasn’t bothering to hide his smiles at all.  There was no way they hadn’t noticed.  He was sure they were just waiting for the right moment, but until one of them asked, he wasn’t going to share.  He’d never hear the end of it.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Despite living here for almost twenty years, I’m not all that familiar with what there is to do or eat around here.  Never really had time for it, and never really felt the need to go out anywhere when I had the time.  I’m definitely up for trying something unknown with you, though.  I doubt you can scare me away. </p>
</blockquote><p>The observatory sounded like a great idea.  It would be perfect for a first date, for them.  Plenty to talk about, quiet enough they could <em> actually </em> talk, and it wasn’t all that busy, as far as he was aware.  He wouldn’t have to worry quite so much about being noticed there, if there were so few people there in the first place.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I honestly can’t remember the last time I went to an observatory.  I’d love to go.  A weekday means it shouldn’t be very crowded.  The restaurant shouldn’t be either, at least if we can manage to go before or after 6.  I think it’ll be fun.  I’m looking forward to it.</p>
</blockquote><p>When Prince yowled so suddenly, Elijah flinched and nearly dropped his phone, finally tearing his eyes off of it to look at her.  Clearly she saw <em> something, </em> she was definitely looking up at something, but there was nothing there.  At least, nothing he could see.  He figured it was a bug, because that was the only logical explanation.  Aside from the fact that she was a cat and honestly, Elijah knew next to nothing about them, aside from their basic needs and the few things he’d learned since taking her in.</p><p>“I have <em> no </em> idea,” Elijah murmured, watching her and still just as confused.  He’d never seen her act like this before, not since taking her in.  He shook his head and redirected his attention back to his phone, his smile creeping back onto his face as he typed up another message to him.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I could come by to pick you up once you get off work.  When do you usually make it back home at the end of the day?</p>
</blockquote><p>Elijah planned on looking into the observatory and into the restaurant, to see reviews for himself and to maybe plan out a route for their date.  He didn’t want to go into it completely blind, he wanted some sort of idea what they could get up to.</p><p>When Prince came back over to him to yowl at <em> him </em> instead of whatever it was she’d been talking to a moment ago, Elijah sighed, reaching down to scratch her chin.  “Are you hungry?” he asked, honestly not sure what else she could possibly want.  He pushed up off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to feed her, finally taking a momentary break from his phone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor stared down at his phone, a stupid smile slapped across his face as he read and reread the last two sentences of Elijah’s first message. He could feel his ears burning, and when he slid a hand over his face, Connor’s cheeks were hot, too. He closed his eyes and tried to push away the fluttering, excited feeling in his gut, only opening them again when more messages came through. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> It’s been a very, very long time since someone’s made my cheeks burn so hot, Mr. Kamski… </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> The nature of my work means I never have a set end time, but I'm usually out of the precinct by 7pm. I’ll message you when i’m leaving, but we can aim for roughly 7:30 if you like. Thank you for offering to pick me up</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’m looking forward to it, too. I have a plethora of space facts and a captive audience, you’re going to find it hard to shut me up all night. I haven’t been to an observatory since elementary school, and telescopes have come a long way since then. I’m excited to go with someone i can talk *actual* science with. It isn’t just your appearance that’s tragically beautiful; your mind is your most stunning feature.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor got up after his last message, and checked on his dinner in the oven. There was only 4 minutes left, and so he turned it off and took the baking dish out, rummaging around in his boxes for tongs and a serving spoon. He could only find a regular spoon, and so he used that to scrape his roasted meal onto a plate, and put everything else in the sink to soak. </p><p>As he ate, Connor began to research Elijah, despite knowing he shouldn’t. Connor didn’t expect to find out anything about how Elijah actually was, gossip magazines were never reliable. But he was surprised by <em> just </em> how private Elijah was. It seemed things hadn’t changed much since Connor had left the CyberLife academy. He was private and secretive and the most interesting person Connor had ever met. It was going to be hard to put down his phone and go to bed that night. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah’s smile grew wider with each text Connor sent.  He wished he could see him, but all he could do was imagine what he looked like, flushed face and red ears.  He couldn’t wait to see him again.  Thursday was only a couple days away, but it seemed so far.  Waiting until after 7 was probably a good idea.  It <em> was </em> a weekday, so the observatory likely wasn’t going to be very busy, but waiting until after 7 meant it was closer to closing time and there would likely be less people around.  No school field trips to avoid, no families with their young children.  Going to dinner before or after also meant that the restaurant would likely be emptier too, it would be past the typical dinner rush.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> We’ll aim for 7:30, but if you get off sooner, that’s fine.  You can still message me when you leave, I’ll need your address to pick you up anyway.</p>
</blockquote><p>When Connor’s last text came through, it was Elijah’s turn to get flustered.  He very rarely blushed, if ever, when he was complimented.  He didn’t like to think he was conceited, but he knew how he looked and he knew how brilliant he was, compliments rarely resulted in anything more than a “thank you” or a compliment in return, but reading the last sentence of Connor’s message made his cheeks and ears burn red and gave him butterflies.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Thank you.  I have to say the same for you, you’re brilliant.  I’m definitely looking forward to spending more time with you.  I also have to admit, I don’t think anyone’s made *me* blush before.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> What made you choose to become a detective?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor leaned over to read his phone when Elijah’s messages came through, and chewed on a wedge of potato as he replied with his apartment address. He looked around after he’d sent it, seemingly noticing for the first time how much of a move-in disaster the place still was. Having someone over who he didn’t want judgement from was all the motivation he needed to get the place finished by thursday. </p><p>Seeing Elijah’s response to his compliment had Connor smiling, covering his mouth with his hand as he chewed. Connor couldn’t remember <em> ever </em> having a connection with <em> anyone </em> quite like this, especially not so quickly. Elijah was fascinating. Connor was half tempted to call him, so he could hear Elijah’s voice. He wished it wasn’t too bold to ask if he could come over for a drink. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I hope i can make you blush again when i see you this thursday</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> A few things. When I originally attended the CyberLife academy, I did so with the hope to change lives for the better. I didn’t find medicine interesting, and politics is a popularity contest. But robotics was interesting, as you know *everything* is a puzzle and all you have to do is figure out which is the correct piece to make everything work. Detective work is very similar. To solve a case you must find the correct “piece” - evidence. And when you solve enough puzzles in a case, you get to give a family closure and make a real difference in their lives. I was the youngest detective in Chicago, and this year I hope to be the youngest sergeant - hopefully before my 30th birthday in August. Being a detective is challenging and incredibly rewarding, and i am very, very good at my job. I am not making as big of a difference as i hoped when i was 18, the differences i make are on an individual level and not a societal one. But i am still making a difference with my career and feel incredibly rewarded by it, and that’s as much as i could hope for. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> What do you do with your time? What projects are you working on? (You are notoriously private, Elijah. We only met today. I won’t be upset if you’re uncomfortable talking about your projects to a stranger - even one that makes you blush)</p>
</blockquote><p>— — —</p><p>As Connor’s messages lit up Elijah’s phone, Chloe entered the kitchen, holding Prince bundled up in her arms. Her eyes followed Elijah as she walked, and she teasingly pretended to look at Elijah’s screen as she passed.</p><p>“So…” Chloe’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile, her LED flickering blue. “You’ve been smiling at your phone non stop for about forty minutes,” she said, leaning against the counter and scratching between Prince’s ears as she watched him. “<em> And you’re blushing from your nose to your toes </em>. Did you meet someone?” she asked, her chin tilting down in a very Elijah-like fashion as she pinned him with a look</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Connor’s address was sent, Elijah saved it to his contact so he wouldn’t lose it in their messages.  He had a feeling there would be a lot more messages exchanged between them by Thursday, and it was going to be near impossible to find it if they kept going at the rate they were.  Every single one of Connor’s texts made him smile.  He hoped <em> he </em> could make Connor blush on Thursday.  He was so excited.  He was never excited to go anywhere anymore, but he was now.  He couldn’t wait for Thursday.  It was so tempting to invite him over, but Elijah knew it wasn’t a good idea, he didn’t know him well enough to invite him into his home.  Not with all of the secrets he had hidden there.</p><p>He understood everything Connor was saying.  He’d done what he did with the hope of helping people and making a difference too.  He wanted to change lives for the better too.  It was admirable, and he knew Connor was doing a good job.  He was young, not even thirty yet, and he was already a detective.  He <em> had </em> to be good at his job if he’d already made detective so young.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> You should be incredibly proud of yourself and your accomplishments.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I don’t mind talking about my projects, I can keep myself from giving away *too* much.  Currently, I’m working on universalizing several existing android parts, as many are model specific.  The “stomach” is a good example.  Only the YK series has one, the childlike model, and it’s sized down to fit.  It would need to be sized up to fit a typical adult sized model.  I’m building a few for my personal androids and a friend’s rather than for mass production, as I no longer work with CyberLife.  It’s coming along well, though.  Aside from work, I spend my time reading, swimming, watching TV, or learning something new.  What about you?  What do you like to do when you aren’t working?</p>
</blockquote><p>Elijah tore his eyes away from his phone to glance up at Chloe when she came into the kitchen.  He pressed the home button when she tried to peek at his phone and sat it down, at least for now.  He was sure it’d be back in his hand again the second it buzzed with another text.  He tried not to roll his eyes at Chloe’s observation.  “I did, at the bar,” he answered, but he didn’t stop there.  He knew she’d pry and ask more questions, so he saved her the trouble.  “His name is Connor, he’s a detective.  He just moved here recently.  He’s incredibly smart, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen, and when he found out who I was, he didn’t get <em> weird </em> like everyone else does.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Chloe’s eyebrows raised a bit further, and her eyes darted to the side to check if the other girls were listening in. This was <em> exciting </em>. Elijah never went anywhere, and never met anyone, and when he did he usually couldn’t stand their company - especially if they knew who he was. </p><p>Chloe’s LED circled yellow, and she shifted in place, straightening with a little bit more authority in her posture. </p><p>“A Detective Connor Stern just started at Central Station yesterday. He’s 29 years old and has a twin brother named Conan who is also a private investigator. There’s… no record of their parents or any family. I can dig a little deeper if you like, but that’s a breach of privacy,” Chloe rattled off, but her lips pressed together in a barely-contained smirk as her LED continued to spin yellow, showing that despite her words she was still snooping. After a moment she huffed out a laugh and revealed, “He’s liked almost seven thousand posts about dogs since he started getting active on social media about eight years ago, and not much else. He also doesn’t seem to be racist, sexist, or your typical disgusting police officer.”</p><p>“Did you say <em> seven thousand posts about dogs </em>, Chloe?” Cleo called out with a laugh, which in turn brought down the dam walls and resulted in Chloe laughing as well. </p><p>“Yeah. He’s really handsome, look him up. There’s a photo of him in uniform,” she called back, and there was a delay before Cleo and Claire echoed an “<em> Oooh…” </em></p><p>Dropping Prince to the floor, Chloe brushed the cat hair off her clothes before reaching up to run her fingertips through Elijah’s undercut. </p><p>“I’ll trim your hair tomorrow, it’s been a few months since you’ve let me do it. I’ll neaten your undercut, too, it’s almost due anyway,” Chloe murmured, looking up at him. “It’s been a long time since i’ve seen you smile like that. I hope he doesn’t turn weird,” she said, meaning it. </p><p>When Elijah’s phone buzzed, Chloe gave him a light push and took the can of cat food out of his hands. “I’ll feed Prince. Go sit down,” she murmured, swatting him away before fussing over Prince, who began meowing and turning circles at her feet, excited to be getting a second dinner. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> That means a lot to me, more than you could know. Thank you.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I didn’t know the YK series had a functioning stomach. How does that work, is there a digestive system? Is the stomach emptied? Is the food broken down for fuel? Thirium310 is such a pure chemical, how would it even react with organic waste and turn it into something usable that wouldn’t contaminate the biocomponents? Emptying the stomach seems like the most realistic option but CyberLife makes a point to sell their machines as realistic human copies. I can’t imagine many faux parents being pleased about manually emptying an organ. A digestive system, then? I’m lost. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’m researching the YK series now and they really are so creepy. I can say that in confidence because I know you didn’t create them. Why do they all look as though they’ll come alive in the night. :( Why is their thirium red?! :(( </p>
  <p>There was a long pause where Connor was obviously distracted by his research, before Elijah’s phone buzzed again. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Good luck with your project. I’d like to hear more about it if you’re happy to talk about it, androids still fascinate me. Again, no pressure. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Work takes up almost all of my time. It isn’t work for me, I enjoy it a lot, so I do a lot of overtime and make sure my fitness stays at an acceptable level. I like reading academic journals, and I used to spend any other free time with my brother. We’re attempting to live apart for the first time. It’s very lonely, but i’ll get used to a quiet home sooner or later. </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah <em> knew </em> when he started talking about Connor that the girls were going to be relentless.  This was new to him, and to them.  All of his relationships in the past had failed because they were all <em> wrong </em> .  Something about each and every one of his past relationships had left a sour taste in his mouth, he had given up on relationships altogether.  He had all he needed, he didn’t need romance or sex.  He had three androids -- <em> people </em> -- who loved him and a woman who was like a mother to him, and a very dear friend.  He had gone years without any sort of romantic or sexual contact, and he was fine.  He didn’t think he was missing out.</p><p>But <em> Connor </em> .  Connor was different.  Something about him was different.  He was so unlike everyone else.  He was smart and knew exactly how to worm his way into Elijah’s heart, he made him put down his guard and let him in more than he had with anyone in a <em> while </em>.  He kept his interest, and he left him wanting to learn more.  They’d only been talking for maybe an hour after their brief chat at the bar, and Elijah was already smitten.</p><p>Despite how annoyed Elijah pretended to be when Chloe started listing off all of the information she’d gathered on Connor, he couldn’t help but listen closely.  He wanted to soak up as much information about him as he could.  He was sure Connor had done research on him already.  Elijah just didn’t have any social media accounts under his name for Connor to find.  The only search results he’d find were all articles about him or CyberLife, published journals he’d written, or gossip about him.</p><p>Elijah shook his head when Chloe offered to dig deeper.  Parents were a sore subject for him, and if there was no mention of Connor’s parents anywhere, he wasn’t concerned about it.  If they ever came up in conversation, then maybe he would ask to sate his curiosity, but he wasn’t worried.  There was likely a good reason they were nowhere to be found, just like his own parents, and he wasn’t going to invade his privacy.</p><p>The mention of the seven thousand dog posts Connor liked made Elijah laugh.  Apparently Connor <em> really </em> liked dogs.  He wondered if he had any, or any pets at all.  Animals weren’t really something Elijah was interested in, but if Connor was, he would happily talk with him about them.</p><p>At the mention of Connor in a uniform, Elijah perked up.  “I’ll need you to forward me that post,” he commented as Chloe came over to him.  He smiled down at her, his smile softer than the one he’d been wearing while messaging Connor.  “Thank you,” he murmured, reaching up to pick a few stray cat hairs off of her clothes.  “I hope so too.  He <em> feels </em> different.  I know it’s probably too early to say, but I’m optimistic.  For once.”</p><p>When his phone buzzed again, Elijah almost resisted reaching for it right away, but when Chloe took the can of food from him, he caved and picked it up, unlocking it as he leaned in to press a kiss to Chloe’s cheek as a thank you on his way past her back towards the living room.  He returned to his seat on the couch, opening up Connor’s messages again so he could read and reply, and within seconds, that stupid smile returned.  Reading through each message, he snorted a laugh at how Connor reacted to researching the YK series.  He agreed entirely.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I agree, the YK series is pretty creepy.  I understand their purpose, but I don’t approve of them.  The red thirium, though, was actually my idea.  It makes them appear more human.  There is actually a series of androids I started work on following the release of the ST200s, it was originally *my* project, I’m not sure what CyberLife has done with it since.  The red thirium was intended for one of the models in that series, but it was scrapped after too many failed attempts.  I could tell you more about it on Thursday, if you’d like.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> The YK series’ stomach parts *do* have something similar to a digestive system.  Food and drinks are broken down inside the stomach and passed, the emptying process is just like ours, the only difference is that they don’t gain any nutrients from what they intake.  Most adult sized models don’t have the space for a full digestive tract in their stomach cavity, so any upgrades made to them would likely require the stomach to be emptied manually from the stomach compartment, but I might be able to manage it.  I’ll know for sure once I finish it.</p>
</blockquote><p>By the time he finished typing up his replies, another message from Connor came through.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’ll happily talk your ear off about androids.  They’re my life’s work.  You might have to tell me to shut up about them.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I can understand that.  Work never really *feels* like work when you’re doing something you love.  I hope adjusting to living alone isn’t too difficult for you.  It isn’t easy in the beginning, but you’ll eventually get used to it.  There was a brief period of time after college where I had to live alone for the first time until my brother moved out here a few months later.  The one benefit is that you can do whatever you want without having someone else around.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Despite having finished dinner some time ago, Connor was still sitting at the table with his empty plate, typing out messages to Elijah. He had such a thrill, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Elijah was most definitely getting in the way of his evening routine. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Brb - If i keep messaging you, it’ll be 2am and i’ll have a sink of dirty dishes. You’re so moreish to talk to, I can't put my phone down.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor hurried to clean his dishes, dumping everything in the dishwasher and quickly scrubbing down his counters. He didn’t want to have to stop the conversation a second time, and so he quickly stripped and got into the shower as well, rushing through everything. Connor unfolded a pair of black sweatpants when he was done, and when he saw his sleeping shirts were still packed, he decided to just go shirtless. </p><p>Unbeknownst to Connor, while he was busy, Chloe forwarded the post of Connor in uniform to Elijah. Connor had worn what he thought was a neutral and relaxed expression in his official photo - what he got was a murderous gaze, a serious set of his jaw, offset by the black hat and shoulders of his uniform. The next photo in the album was of Connor smiling at something Conan had said, his eyes creased closed. And the third and final photo of Connor in uniform saw him mid-conversation with someone, his eyebrows furrowed and his hat held in his hands against his stomach.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> That’s fascinating. I would love to hear about it. I might be a little rusty but i’m a quick learner. I’m excited to hear about your project - maybe we can brainstorm a way to get it off the ground again. Technology has come a long way since the ST200. Although, I think that will always be my favourite model. I have a soft spot for them after the CyberLife camp, and the new machines don’t have as much soul as those original models. </p>
  <p>Do you still have Chloe? Her Turing test was what sparked my interest in robotics when I was a teenager. She was such a beautifully elegant machine, even watching back on the test now. There’s nothing like her built today. She seems human. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Have you considered making a stomach lining for the part, where the android has to remove a bag and flush the contents of their stomach? There’s plenty of cheap organic plastic alternatives that can be flushed - i’m thinking of what they use for baby diapers now, just in a bag form. It would stop bacteria and odour forming in the part, too. </p>
</blockquote><p>Connor paused at the last message Elijah sent, his gaze lingering on the mention of his brother. Connor was a terrible liar unless it was for work. What was he going to do if Conan's ghost came up in conversation on Thursday?</p><p>Connor began typing, ‘<em> Or *whoever* you want </em>’ before backspacing as he decided they weren’t quite at the dirty and suggestive jokes phase of their friendship just yet. They’d only been talking for just over an hour. Connor looked at the rest of the message, bit his bottom lip, and then quickly retyped:</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Or *whoever* you want.</p>
</blockquote><p>As soon as he hit send, Connor let out a strange noise in the back of his throat and stood up, scratching nervously just above his belly button. </p><p>“Connor, you <em> idiot </em>,” he breathed, nervously checking his phone before picking it up again. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Where were you based before Detroit?</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor hoped that his very normal question erased any damage his riskier text had made. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah let out a soft chuckle when Connor admitted to not putting his phone down.  Really, he hadn’t either.  He <em> tried </em> to, so he could feed Prince, but that didn’t last very long.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’ll be here, take all the time you need.</p>
</blockquote><p>He almost put his phone down, but Chloe’s message came through before he had the chance to lock his screen.  He looked over the image in the post, looking at every little detail he could.  The very first thing he noticed was that Connor was gorgeous.  It wasn’t news to him, but it only reinforced his opinion.  Connor was so incredibly handsome.  His strong jaw, the serious look in his <em> beautiful </em> brown eyes, the moles and freckles that dotted his skin like constellations, and that <em> uniform. </em>  Connor would look amazing in anything, Elijah was convinced, but Connor in uniform with that look in his eye made him hot under the collar, and that wasn’t easy to accomplish.</p><p>Once he looked enough, he swiped to the next photo.  Connor’s smile was infectious.  Each photo he found, he looked over thoroughly before swiping onto the next, although he didn’t get very far before his phone buzzed again with a text.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Maybe, some day.  I don’t have the same resources at home as I did when I was with CyberLife.  Building an android from the ground up with only the resources I have here would be impossible.  If my situation with CyberLife was different, I would absolutely take you up on that offer.</p>
  <p>I *do* still have Chloe, as well as two ST200s.  Chloe is one of my proudest accomplishments.  It means a lot to hear that you think so highly of her.  Perhaps, one day soon, you could come over and meet her, Cleo, and Claire.  I know they would love to meet *you*.  They’ve already commented on the way I’ve been smiling at my phone since we started texting.</p>
  <p>As for the stomach part, that’s a great idea.  If I *do* wind up having to resort to manual cleaning, that’s something I’ll look into.</p>
</blockquote><p>He took a screenshot of Connor’s suggestion so he could remember it later.  It wasn’t something he was in any hurry to develop, but it was definitely something he would consider moving forward.  If he wound up going with Connor’s idea, he thought he might invite him over so he could help work on it, if he wanted to.</p><p>The text Connor sent in response to what Elijah had said about living alone took Elijah by surprise, but with a huff of a laugh, he started writing his own response, risky as it might have been to send.  He thought it might be received well based on Connor’s response itself.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Very true.  Unfortunately, I don’t live alone, but I *do* have thick sound-proofed walls. ;)</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I grew up in NYC.  I moved to Detroit once I graduated.  Did you grow up in Chicago?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Genuine excitement washed over Connor when Elijah offered to introduce him to Chloe and the rest of his androids. Chloe had such a huge impact on his youth, she was such a fascinating piece of machinery, and Connor couldn’t wait to talk with her. And as that excitement settled, it hit Connor just who it was he was talking to. Elijah was so normal, and so much fun to talk to. Connor kept forgetting he was a major celebrity, that he was the person responsible for changing the fabric of society. Connor wasn’t interested in him because of his celebrity status, he was interested in the man at the bar who had discussed genetics with him over a drink, and continued to hold an intellectual conversation with Connor over text. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Yes please, i would love to meet Chloe and the rest of your androids one day. She would be over a decade old by now, it’s amazing that you still have her. </p>
</blockquote><p>I’m flattered, I hope I can keep you smiling on Thursday.</p><p>Do you live with just your androids? I have to admit, I've never been in a position to own one before. I’ve considered getting a second hand model so i could tinker with the code, but i don’t really have the money for tinkering with hundreds of dollars worth of tech. Maybe one day.</p><p>When Connor <em> finally </em> got a reply to his nerve-wracking text, he burst out laughing, and covered his face with his hand as he grinned. Taking a deep breath, Connor turned off all the lights in the apartment and retreated to his bedroom, crawling into the middle of his bed and pulling his pillows underneath him to prop himself up. He let his burning hot face sink into the pillows for a moment, grinning ear to ear, and made a breathless sound in the back of his throat as he looked back up at his phone again. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Unfortunately, my walls are paper thin. But i wouldn’t mind keeping my neighbours awake if it was with good company. ;)</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor was still grinning as he debated his next message. He didn’t want Elijah to get weird about it, or give him sympathy, as was many people’s first reaction when they found out. But Elijah had been open with Connor, and his childhood situation wasn’t exactly a secret. It was better to get it out of the way at the start, rather than over a dinner or in a quiet moment. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> More or less. Conan - my brother - and I were in the foster system. We were difficult children because we were both bored a lot and Conan had his own challenges, but a popular foster choice because we were (almost) identical twins, so we were moved from house to house a lot. Mostly in the Chicago suburbs, but also in surrounding towns. When we left the system, we stayed in Chicago until moving to Detroit last week. </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah knew that meeting Chloe would likely be something significant for Connor.  He knew from previous texts how he felt about her and the ST200s, and he knew that meeting them would likely be similar to a fan meeting their favorite celebrity.  In all honesty, he thought Connor might be more of a fan of Chloe than Elijah himself, if his reactions to finding out who he was and being told that he could meet Chloe were anything to go on.  Not that Elijah minded in the slightest, it was perfectly justified, if he was being honest.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> She will be 18 this year, actually.  She’s aged incredibly well.  She has learned *so* much and adapted very well.  She has quite the personality.  The other girls are going to be 16 this year, and they’re very much the same.  All three have been upgraded gradually throughout the years with upgraded biocomponents, software upgrades, etc.  I plan on keeping all three of them around until the day I die or they get sick of me, whichever comes first.</p>
  <p>There is no doubt in my mind that you will.</p>
  <p>I do.  It’s just Chloe, Cleo, Claire, and I, unless you count a cat and some robotic koi.  I might be a little biased, but androids truly do make like better.  You don’t know them like I do, so you might think this sounds absurd, but they’re like family to me.  They’re my best friends.  They keep me company when I get lonely, keep me fed, keep the house clean, help me with my work.  I genuinely don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have them.  If you’re ever financially capable, I strongly suggest buying one.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor’s response to Elijah’s equally risky text was something Elijah was looking forward to seeing.  He snorted a laugh that he’d tried to bite down, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Noted.</p>
</blockquote><p>They’d just spend more time at his place, then.  Soundproof walls to give them all the privacy they wanted, a large bed, a large shower, an equally large tub, a pool, and countless other surfaces were available to them there, whereas in Connor’s, he likely had significantly less, and his shower and tub situation was likely much smaller, living in an apartment.</p><p>Connor and his brother’s backstory was surprising.  It wasn’t often that someone so successful came out of the system after being bounced around quite as much as they were, especially in a big city.  The fact that <em> two </em> successful people came from that situation made them even more special than they already were.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I’m surprised, honestly.  You’ve done very well for yourself, despite your childhood being spent bounced between foster homes.  You never cease to amaze me, Connor.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor sighed, resting his chin on the pillows as he read over Elijah’s message. He really had to go to sleep soon, but his mind was so lit up from their conversation he didn’t think he could sleep even if he wanted to. It was only early days yet, but Connor hoped that they would be able to have long discussions about androids and science that wasn’t on a superficial level. He hoped that soon, Elijah would trust him enough to talk about their hopes and fears, what they thought about on lonely nights, the memories that shaped them to their core. They had joked about sex, but Connor was a lot more interested in knowing Elijah. Connor hoped that Elijah let him in - and given the progress of their conversation, he didn’t doubt that he would one day. Connor hoped it was soon. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I can’t believe it’s been 18 years. You achieved so much so young. I’m excited to have a conversation with her. Have you read O’Tool’s paper ‘Androids And The Soul’? It talks about the way humans have reacted to androids in their homes and in society and questions what we know about synthetic intelligence. He compares android intelligence studies to early animal intelligence studies and how humans have anthropomorphised androids very similarly to animals who were later shown to have high levels of intelligence. The paper questions whether their personalities are completely code-driven or if, like humans, have been learned, and if a learned personality makes them more than just machines. Quite relevant to Chloe. </p>
  <p>Ha. I’ll put one on my Christmas list. Although if androids start to get sick of their owners and leave, my job will be a lot more complicated. </p>
</blockquote><p>There was a pause as Connor considered what to write next. He didn’t want to get into his life in the foster system, it was a boring subject for Connor and he hated how people reacted to it, even if they meant well. He was glad that Elijah knew, though. It was out of the way and wouldn’t get brought up when Elijah got curious about his family. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> What are your feelings about the different android models that have been made since your ousting? Astronauts are a good example of science innovation. Traci’s, however, are not.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah was very hesitant to imply that his androids weren’t acting quite as they should.  He had made more than a few modifications over the years, and he wasn’t sure how the public would feel about them.  They were kept secret, only a very select few knew, and he wasn’t very willing to tell many others.  Connor was still a stranger, they didn’t know each other that well, and while he didn’t distrust Connor, he didn’t trust him wholeheartedly.  He would be cleaning up his lab and hiding any and all projects and information he wanted to stay hidden.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I have.  I have plenty of thoughts on androids’ personalities and how they develop.  Most people have likely disposed of their ST200s and upgraded to newer models, but I’m sure there are a few others out there that have kept their older models around for a while.  I, and those people who kept them around, have had almost two decades’ worth of time to watch them grow.  Chloe is still very similar to who she was during the Turing Test and during her interviews, but she’s changed a little over the years.  I’m excited for you to meet them.</p>
  <p>In all honesty, I don’t know how they haven’t developed emotions and left their humans behind.  If *I* were in their position and treated as poorly as most humans treat their androids, I would have left a long time ago.</p>
</blockquote><p>Elijah had a lot of opinions on androids created after his ousting.  There were <em> some </em> useful models, they weren’t all bad, and there was a lot of variety for customers to choose from, but there were some models that Elijah never would have allowed to be made.  The Tracis were a good example.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> A few of them are absolutely useful.  Others…  are not.  I disapprove of the sexual partner models, but I do see the purpose behind them.  Sports players and band members are unnecessary though, there’s no reason for those to exist.  It gives them an unfair advantage.  The astronaut model, however, is pretty cool.</p>
  <p>If *you* could design an android model, what purpose would it serve?  What androids do you think CyberLife needs?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor missed Elijah’s secrecy, at least through text. He wasn’t there to see Elijah’s hesitate or hold back, and he didn’t see the walls he was being kept behind. As far as Connor was concerned, Elijah was letting him in much further than he'd ever expected - not that he expected anything from Elijah Kamski at all. Connor noted in the back of his mind that he was very lucky to be having this conversation with Elijah at all. But at the same time, it was easy to forget the significance of his identity. He was just the man he’d shared a drink with. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I could hear your thoughts on this subject all day and night. I haven’t been this intellectually stimulated since I started college. Thursday couldn’t come fast enough. </p>
  <p>Do you think androids are capable of developing emotions? I’ve never owned an android as you know, but I have studied their code, and even in the 20’s it was enormously complex. Do those who claim their androids are alive have any argument, or are they simply fooled by CyberLife’s learning and adaptation protocols? </p>
</blockquote><p>Connor meant his question theoretically. Personally, Connor didn’t think it was possible. Androids were machines designed to behave human, and engineers have had almost two decades to refine their software and fill it with subtleties. They were purposely designed for people to accept into their homes and form attachments with. It didn’t mean they were alive when they served their purpose. But with that said, Connor also didn’t think an attachment to an android was anything to be ashamed about. He drew the line at giving androids human rights, as they were not human, they were a machine. But he didn’t belittle those who felt love or commitment to those machines. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> The traci models in particular annoy me the most. They’re advertised as a clean, safe, and ethical sexual experience, but what it’s done is gentrified the sex industry. There are still just as many human sex workers as there were before places like Eden Club existed, but they’re now more underground than ever before. Human sex workers have less rights than they’ve ever had, and now that patrons are encouraged to be abusive to Traci androids, this behaviour follows people back to human sex workers. Your client wants violence? Either you agree, or lose what scraps of money you could earn that night. They no longer have a foot to stand on, all because of the culture surrounding Traci androids. Homicides and assaults towards sex workers were a dime a dozen every night in Chicago. They’re no doubt higher in Detroit. The only crimes that are higher involve Red Ice. </p>
  <p>On that note, not to be completely predictable, but i’d like to see a detective model, equipped with CSI, forensics, lie detection, ballistics, capable of writing reports and maintaining case files - everything we wait on that makes an investigation take up time. Ideally every detective would be partnered with one - no matter how much technology is made or how good it is, an investigation would fall apart without human intuition. Sometimes a case isn’t just about evidence, sometimes you have to follow a gut feeling to find leads the evidence doesn’t point to. Although i’m not too sure my colleagues would agree with the benefits of a detective model. People would see it as a replacement, not a help. I think the percentage of cases solved per year would skyrocket, and that is all that matters at the end of the day - so long as they’re solved correctly. </p>
</blockquote><p>Connor shifted, rolling over onto his back and holding his phone above his face. He was tempted to just <em> call </em> Elijah. To just lay there and talk and talk and talk. He couldn’t wait to see Conan tomorrow and gush about <em> everything </em> they’d talked about. He needed to tell someone about Elijah, and he knew Conan wouldn’t mind it if he came over and vomited words at him for a solid hour. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> What would be the first thing you’d do if you could retake control of CyberLife? What is the first android *you* would make?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Thursday really wasn’t coming soon enough.  He wanted to see him sooner.  He couldn’t talk to other people the way he and Connor were.  He had some colleagues over in Bletchley Park that he got along well with, and a handful of former classmates from Colbridge University, but he didn’t talk to them often.  The only other humans he <em> liked </em> talking to were his brother, his brother’s mother, his mentor, and a close friend.  Only <em> four </em> people, and two of those four were dead.  He didn’t talk to his friend as often as he should, and he didn’t talk to Gavin’s mother as often as he should either, although both were for different reasons.  Carl was often busy, and as for Danielle, the two of them always wound up crying by the end of their conversation.  He checked in on her from time to time, but they’d only talked a handful of times since Gavin had been assumed dead.  Connor was the first human he’d spoken to in a long time that actually understood him and what he was saying.  That was exciting on his own, but Connor was also so interesting and funny, he was a joy to talk to.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I agree entirely.  It’s so rare to find someone who *actually* understands what I’m talking about.  I’m excited to talk more in depth in person on Thursday.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor’s following question made Elijah pause.  He wasn’t sure what Connor thought on the subject, but Elijah knew what <em> he </em> knew to be true.  But he also knew he couldn’t talk about it, it was a subject he had to pretend to know nothing about.  He had to tread carefully with his wording, at least until he knew Connor’s stance, but even then, he still couldn’t be completely honest.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I wouldn’t say it’s *impossible* for androids to eventually develop emotions.  They *are* incredibly complex machines, built to constantly adapt, they’re always learning.  There isn’t any evidence that an android can feel emotion in the same way we humans can, at least not yet, and if there is, CyberLife is keeping it under wraps.</p>
</blockquote><p>He wasn’t sure if that was a good enough answer for Connor, but it was going to have to do.  He was hesitant to dive any deeper into that conversation.  Maybe one day, once Connor gained his trust, but until then, that was just about all Connor was going to get out of him on the subject.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> In all honesty, I never considered the impact the Traci models would have on sex workers.  I knew their existence would likely take business away from them, but I never thought about it that way.  I know CyberLife likely didn’t consider it either, and if they did, I doubt they care.  When I created androids, I never intended for their creation to  result in so much crime, unemployment, and homelessness.  Yes, androids were created to take over jobs, but only in positions where it would be more beneficial and efficient for everyone involved.  They were meant to be assistants, do all of the work humans typically don’t want to.  They were meant to make our lives better, easier, and free up our time.</p>
</blockquote><p>The android model Connor described was genius.  There definitely wasn’t one like it, at least not yet, unless it was a model CyberLife was working on in secret.  People would absolutely view it as a replacement, though.  It would cut out all of the work CSI and forensics did.  Detectives would keep their jobs, but what would become of the CSI and forensic scientists they’d replace?  It was a brilliant idea, and definitely one that should be considered, at least in Elijah’s opinion, but it would absolutely cause a few problems.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> A detective model is an excellent idea.  I do have to agree, I doubt very many people would be excited about working with them, but it would speed things up drastically.  What takes a forensic scientist days to test would take minutes, max.  It would be incredibly efficient, and it would increase your chances at solving your cases.  *If* I ever return to CyberLife, I hope you don’t mind if I take that idea.</p>
  <p>If I ever returned to CyberLife, I think the first android I’d make would be my second, the one I scrapped after the ST200s were released.  Technology has advanced so much since then.  Androids already have functional stomachs, functional genitals, and CyberLife has found a way to change the color of Thirium 310 to red.  A lot of the work is already done for me.  I would just need to find a way to make all of the other internal “organs” function like they should.  Technology *should* be advanced enough now for everything to function, I hope, but I likely will never see.  I don’t see my position at CyberLife opening up anytime soon.</p>
  <p>I’m going to go get ready for bed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.</p>
</blockquote><p>Elijah sighed and finally pulled himself up off the couch so he could get ready for bed after he sent his last message.  He told the girls goodnight and headed back to his bedroom, stripping out of his clothes and into a pair of pajama bottoms before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth.  After he was ready, he climbed in bed and got comfortable, laying back with his phone in his hands again.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I just got laid down, but I’m still here for now.  I’m not too tired just yet, you have my full, undivided attention.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor frowned down at the reply he got from Elijah regarding android emotions. It was a complete non-answer, the kind of distracting wordy responses Elijah gave to the media. <em> ‘It’s possible but we just don’t know.’ </em> Connor also noticed that Elijah pushed CyberLife front and centre, where he hadn’t for the rest of their conversation. And so instead of dissuading Connor, Elijah’s answer only piqued his curiosity. What was Elijah not telling him, <em> was </em> there evidence of androids feeling true emotion and he simply didn’t feel comfortable revealing it? If so, why? </p><p>Connor was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a way to pry a little further without becoming unwelcome. He wanted to know more. What had been just a passing question now had a front row seat. Was Elijah hiding something?</p><p>In the end, Connor chewed on his bottom lip and pointedly didn’t address the message, skipping over it to answer the others. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I agree with what you’ve said previously in interviews - Androids are progress, and it’s no different to human computers being replaced by electronic ones, only instead of maths etc we have replaced everyday tasks. But i also agree with what you’ve said now - androids should not have replaced the arts. Art is what humans leave behind to build our history. The arts tell historians what humans of the time experienced and felt, and connects us to the lives of those in the past. Of course, androids producing art is in itself history. But it shouldn’t be at the cost of human art.</p>
</blockquote><p>At the message he received about what android Elijah would make, Connor found himself frowning again. Why was Elijah trying to make a human copy? What purpose did that serve when biocomponents were essentially the same thing? Could androids act as incubators for human organ transplants? But then, wouldn’t it be more hygienic to have the synthetic organs sterilised in hospitals, not transported around inside of androids? Connor was lost again, and incredibly curious. It seemed as though Elijah Kamski had a lot going on in his mind that Connor had barely scratched the surface of - which was exactly what he should have expected. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> It’s not very often I have a conversation with someone and I'm left with more questions than answers. You’ll have to forgive me when I pick your brain on thursday. You’re fascinating, Elijah. I’ve never met anyone like you. </p>
  <p>Of course. I’ll be here. </p>
</blockquote><p>Connor scrolled up as he waited, smiling as he read back through their conversation. Connor knew that others could find him intense sometimes. It was often what ruined whatever relationships he did manage to foster. Connor didn’t let things get past him, and people didn’t like that. Conan had once called him confrontational. But Connor didn’t want to confront Elijah, he didn’t want to scare this one away. Connor desperately wanted Elijah to continue liking him, even after their date on thursday. Elijah was <em> famously </em> private. If Connor wanted Elijah to continue wanting him around, he knew he had to think before he acted. He had to do his best not to <em> immediately </em> step on Elijah’s toes. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Lucky me.</p>
</blockquote><p>He was getting tired, but Connor didn’t want to say goodnight. Part of Connor - a large part - wished he could lay beside Elijah and ask him questions until he fell asleep. He was so <em> happy </em>, and meeting Elijah like this in his first week in Detroit made moving there feel as though it were the right thing to do. It felt illogical, but it made Connor hopeful about his relationship with Hank. He would never have met Elijah if his partner wasn’t a sour alcoholic, and if his brother wasn’t a medium who had called Elijah and triggered him to go to the very same seedy bar Connor just so happened to be at. Connor didn’t believe in fate. But he believed in luck. And he was determined not to squander it, not with someone like Elijah. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> What are you most afraid of?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Now that he was in bed and comfortable, Elijah was able to focus completely on Connor, at least until one or both of them wound up falling asleep.  He read over the messages Connor sent while he was getting ready so he could reply to them now that he was free again.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Androids can’t even produce art in the same way humans can.  Androids don’t have an imagination, they can’t create things from nothing.  They can build something based on a reference, but they have no creativity, they can only make exact copies.  Convenient, if you want to produce multiples of your works of art, if you were a painter, for example, and wanted to make copies of your original work to sell, but don’t feel like putting in the effort to make your own.  An android creating art from nothing would be impossible, without emotion.  Humans feel, and they express themselves in their work, be it art, music, acting, etc.  An android creating its own original art *would* make history.  Any art an android would create would be no different than what a human can create, though.  The only thing that would make it special is that it was created by an android.</p>
</blockquote><p>Elijah knew he’d been cryptic.  He knew his answer, or non-answer, would leave Connor with more questions, but they were questions he simply couldn’t answer.  Or rather, <em> wouldn’t </em> answer.  He knew Connor was a detective, and detectives were nosy, curious about everything and everyone and always wanting to get to the bottom of any mysteries they found.  And Elijah was a mystery, not only to Connor, but to everyone except for those very few he let in close.  There were only two people alive, aside from the girls, that knew him, and those two people didn’t even know <em> everything </em>.  Gavin hadn’t even known everything, and he was the one he let in the closest.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Feel free to pick away.  I still have plenty of questions for you too.  I haven’t met anyone like you before either, *you* fascinate *me*.</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor’s following question was something Elijah couldn’t easily answer right away.  It took him a moment to think.  What <em> was </em> he afraid of?  A few things came to mind.  He was afraid of being found out, and losing everything he’d worked for because of it.  He was afraid of losing the girls, his closest friends.  If anyone found out his secret and leaked it to the right people, there was a chance Chloe, Cleo, and Claire would be taken from him, analyzed and studied to see if the claims were true, and then likely destroyed to hide any evidence of the truth.  He knew how CyberLife worked, he knew what was the most likely outcome.  And while that was scary and a very legitimate fear of his, ultimately, it wasn’t what he was most afraid of.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Being alone.  Death.  Not mine, but the deaths of the people I care for, the girls included.  I can’t decide which I’m more afraid of.</p>
  <p>I’ve never truly been alone.  Even when I first moved here and lived alone for that short period of time, I still had people close to me to talk to, to keep me company whenever I got lonely until my brother could move out here.  Losing the people I care about is what scares me the most.</p>
  <p>What about you?  What are you afraid of?</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor smiled, reread Elijah’s message regarding androids and the arts. There was an intelligence that oozed out of Elijah that was present in everything he said, and Connor adored it. Usually, that sense of intelligence was accompanied by a degree of arrogance. So far, Elijah hadn’t been arrogant towards Connor. He hoped it stayed that way. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> How would you begin to code something as complex and individual as an android’s imagination? A fun summer project, if i’ve ever heard one. </p>
</blockquote><p>A warm heat crept back into Connor’s cheeks when Elijah called him fascinating, and an incredibly smitten grin creased his eyes closed as he rested his face in the crook of his elbow. He thought about the observatory date, and holding Elijah’s hand as they discussed the magnitude of space. He thought about how nice it was going to be to just <em> talk </em> about the things that interested him, and not having to dumb himself down so he could be understood. He felt so incredibly <em> accepted </em> by Elijah, so seen and heard. The fact that someone wanted <em> more </em> of his company after he’d been himself with them, and wasn’t looking for an out, was so rare and special. It was something he so rarely, if ever, experienced, and it left Connor utterly captured - hook, line, and sinker. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> You might just be the first. I have no secrets to hide from you, Elijah. Ask me anything, I'm an open book.</p>
</blockquote><p>Much like Elijah, Connor had to think before answering Elijah’s question about his fears. His eyebrows were furrowed up, because he knew Elijah had said without saying that his worst fears had been realised with the death of his brother. Connor wasn’t supposed to know that his brother was gone, and revealing that he knew would open questions as to <em> how </em> he knew. Elijah’s brother was nowhere on file. But with the death of his brother, that left the death of his androids. They were all Elijah seemed to have left, and that knowledge left Connor strangely aching. No matter their realism, androids were not real people. Unless he had some very close friends, Elijah was all alone. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> We’ve only just met, but I will not turn you away if you need somebody to reach out for, Elijah. I know how bitter loneliness tastes. I know how it aches in your bones. I am here if you need somebody.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> My own fears are similar, but they directly centre Conan. I’m afraid of losing him - through death, but also through distance. He’s my twin. Nobody knows me like he does, and nobody ever will. He is my constant - he has been there when nothing else has; a home, a family, a job, even a future. He is the one and only thing that tethers me. He is the most important thing in the world to me. I’m afraid that he will meet someone and no longer call me, no longer think of me. Conan is just as intelligent as me, i actually suspect he’s *more* intelligent. But he’s also more normal. He fits in better than I do. I’m afraid of being left behind as he grows apart from me, as brothers *should*. Nobody understands me, people tend to tolerate me. I am not liked by people. They don’t enjoy my company. Without Conan, I am afraid I'll be alone. It’s a very selfish fear, i suppose. Conan deserves happiness with somebody else. </p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> If you ever meet him, you can’t mention a *word* of what i just said. I’ll never hear the end of it. </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor’s response made Elijah wonder how <em> Connor </em> would do it, if he were to try programming an android to feel emotion or to have an imagination.  He wondered what Connor would think of his code, the one he’d written, if he would approve.  That was another thing he’d have to learn in person, if he felt brave enough to discuss it.  He wasn’t leaving any evidence of what he’d done in text, but he was less hesitant to talk about it face to face.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I imagine it would likely take an entire summer to finish, if not more, but it definitely would be fun.  For people like us, at least.</p>
</blockquote><p>If it wasn’t already something he’d completed, or at least considered complete, he might have consulted Connor on it, especially after that last text.  He was interested to see what he thought of it, though, once he trusted him enough to show it to him.  As much as he liked Connor, and as much as he seemed trustworthy and Elijah <em> wanted </em> to trust him, he was still hesitant to reveal all his secrets.  He was a very secretive person, there was only <em> one </em> person that truly knew everything there was to know about him, and that was Chloe.  Cleo and Claire came second, followed by Gavin.  No one else came close to knowing everything about him.</p><p>Despite having his secrets and understanding the need for some privacy, he was glad to hear that Connor was willing to share everything, if he asked.  Elijah was curious about him, he had plenty of questions he wanted to ask, things he wanted to learn.  There were a lot of things he wanted to know about Connor.  He wanted to know everything, his favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite place to visit, places he’d <em> like </em> to visit, the list went on.  They had much to talk about in the coming days between now and Thursday, and he knew they wouldn’t run out of things to talk about by then either.</p><p>The following text made Elijah’s brows draw together.  He hadn’t expected his text to result in the response it had, but it soothed something inside him.  He was still terrified of losing the people he cared about, but knowing that Connor was there for him meant a lot.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> That means a lot to me, Connor.  Thank you.  The same applies to you, too.  If you ever need anyone, I’m here.</p>
</blockquote><p>Reading Connor’s next text about his brother hit a little harder than he’d expected it to.  Elijah suspected it would have something to do with Conan, Connor’s brother, based on the bits of information he knew about them, but the way Connor spoke about Conan made Elijah think of Gavin.  Gavin had been his constant.  He’d always been in his life in one way or another.  They’d grown up together, lived together.  They weren’t always as close as they’d been as kids, they’d grown apart a little when Elijah left for college, but they were close again once Gavin moved in with him in Detroit.  They had a few arguments that came between them and pushed them apart, but they were still there for each other, they still talked.  He’d never gone so long without talking to him before.  That realization made his eyes burn with the threat of tears he tried to blink away, until the next text came through, making him chuckle, despite the tears threatening to come to the surface.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> Your secret’s safe with me.</p>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> If it’s any consolation,  *I* understand you, *I* like you, and *I* enjoy your company.  I know several people here in Detroit, at CyberLife, and Bletchley Park that would too.  You’re just different.  So am I.  You just need to find others like you.  Maybe someday, I can introduce you to the few I know.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Connor’s face tucked down, his eyebrows furrowing together as he read over Elijah’s messages. Usually, Connor didn’t believe people when they said they were there for him, and he still carried a pinch of doubt towards Elijah’s words as well. But for whatever reason - be it their constant chatting since Connor had gotten home, the honesty of their conversation, or how easily they clicked - Connor believed Elijah when he said that he liked him. The evidence of their conversation pointed to him telling the truth. It wasn’t often that he believed people when they told him that, usually it was a polite passing comment that had no backbone. But he really did believe that Elijah wouldn’t get sick of him if they were to spend time together. He wouldn’t burn Elijah out, and be too much for him. Instead it seemed the more they spoke the more they fed off each other. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b> Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I would love that. Thank you very much, Elijah, that was very kind of you</p>
</blockquote><p>Connor pulled in a deep sigh, his furrowed eyebrows pulling up. He wasn’t really sure what to do with the emotion in his chest, or how to even unravel it. He wasn’t even sure what emotion he was <em> feeling </em>. But it made his chest tight, and there was a knot in his stomach, and Connor kept finding himself wanting to sigh, as though he couldn’t quite get enough air into his lungs. He knew Elijah was the cause of it, but he didn’t know what ‘it’ was. He was restless and jittery, he had too much energy. And so he picked up his phone again and wrote another message to Elijah. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b> Elijah<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Connor<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> My head is racing after our conversation. I need to be up early tomorrow. You are the most interesting, charming person I've ever met. You’re so much fun to talk to. I could happily destroy my sleep schedule staying up all night talking about anything and everything. I’m going for a run to try and calm down, and then going to bed. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, Elijah. Thank you for reaching out.</p>
</blockquote><p>With that, Connor tossed his phone to the side and dug out his gym clothes and sneakers, checking the phone one last time, before heading out with the intention to run until he could barely stand in an effort to overcome the strange feeling in his chest. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elijah could have easily stayed up for hours talking with Connor.  It was already late, he knew Connor had work in the morning, and if Elijah wanted to keep some semblance of a decent sleep schedule, he needed to sleep soon too.  He was honestly surprised by how captivated he was by Connor.  It was rare that anyone held his attention for so long, but he just couldn’t stop talking to Connor.  He wanted to hear his thoughts on everything, and he didn’t have enough time in a day to do it.  It was hard to say good night and let him go, but he knew Connor needed to get to sleep.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b>  Connor<br/><b>FROM:</b>  Elijah<br/><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/></b> I could say the same about you.  I really enjoyed talking with you today.  Enjoy your run and sleep well.  Feel free to message me anytime.  And thank *you* for giving me your number.  I’m very glad to have met you.  Good night, Connor.</p>
</blockquote><p>With a sigh, Elijah finally set his phone down to charge.  His mind was still racing too much for him to sleep either, but he didn’t want to get back out of bed.  He knew if he did, he’d likely wind up staying up much later.  Going anywhere near his lab was a bad idea, especially if he planned on sleeping at all.  He figured he’d just lie awake for a few hours before his brain finally let him shut it off for the night to sleep.  Now would have been about the time he’d call or text Gavin, knowing he was still awake, to tell him all about Connor and wind up staying up late talking with him instead.  It was always times like these where he realized how much they’d done together and how much he missed.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>* * *</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin’s hands dug into his jacket pockets, and he frowned as he looked up at the grimy red brick mansion. There were lights on inside, and he could see a figure moving around beside the curtains. It gave Gavin a bad feeling, and so he walked in the opposite direction around to the front of the house. </p><p>There were big, spooky iron gates, because of course there were, and as Gavin walked towards them a feeling of there being something <em> wrong </em> crawled up his spine and settled in his chest. In both directions, the road the mansion was on faded into the night, and Gavin couldn’t see any street signs. And so he turned back around, and walked up to the house, ignoring how the front door creaked open when Gavin walked through it. </p><p>Gavin couldn’t remember what he was investigating, but he remembered that this guy - his name was weird, a real mouthful to say, something Russian - might have had a lead for them. He wasn’t a suspect. He <em> should </em> have been one. </p><p>Gavin looked around, his stomach tightening in what he realised was fear. Slowly, he climbed the stairs, and jumped when he heard a voice yell out for someone named Luthor. He reached the top of the stairs the same moment a door banged open. Gavin’s eyes widened as they rested on a man whose hands and arms were covered in blue blood. Gavin remembered that, he remembered wanting to tell him it was toxic and he shouldn’t let it touch his skin. He remembered-- he’d said--</p><p>The back of his head had been gripped by an android who had been twice Gavin’s height and build, and his face slammed into the flagstone floor. He’d been dragged like a doll up a hallway, and hauled onto a table. The man had said something, he’d said a lot of shit, if Gavin was honest. He hadn’t been able to make out any of it, his face was so smashed in. He remembered trying to keep the man away from him as he was approached with a scalpel. He remembered choking on his own blood as his throat was slit, as his shirt was ripped open, and he was opened up all the way to his naval. He remembered being pissed off that he’d died in such a stupid fucking way. </p><p>The man turned, muttering something about where the hell Luther had gone, and Gavin reeled backwards. He yelled as he fell backwards down the stairs, his arms trying to catch hold of something. But instead, everything went black. </p><p>When Gavin could see again, he realised it was the inside of Conan’s apartment. He was breathing fast, and the light in the livingroom was flashing in time with Gavin’s breaths. He was wet, dripping all over with blood he immediately realised was his own. It poured out of his nose and mouth, and his neck. Gavin looked down to stare at his hands, and realised his stomach was cut open, too. His face was smashed in, but Gavin’s eyes were terrified.</p><p>“What’s happening to me?!” Gavin breathed. “How do i stop--? How do i stop it?! I saw the guy, he’s still there, there’s an android, he fucks with androids, he’s russian, he-- he wasn’t a suspect-- i dunno what-- i don’t know why he killed me, i dunno what i did-- i’m gonna fuckin’ kill him-- i’m gonna-- i’m fuck-- Conan help-- fucking help me, help-- I can’t stop bleeding i can’t stop-- <em> help me--!” </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan wasn’t sure where Gavin went when he disappeared.  He didn’t really question it, he was free to go wherever he wanted, he could come and go as he pleased.  Conan didn’t mind.  As long as he didn’t watch him get dressed or shower again, he didn’t particularly care where Gavin was.  It wasn’t like he could cause any trouble, not easily anyway.</p><p>He had his own work to do, so he let Gavin do whatever he wanted while Conan did a few things online, things he needed to do to get himself established as a PI in Detroit.  It didn’t take long to wrap up what he was doing.  He put his laptop away, turned the TV volume down a little lower so it wouldn’t disturb him in the bedroom, and got up to put away leftovers from dinner and tidy up.  There wasn’t much to clean up, just takeout trash, a couple dishes, an unfolded throw blanket.  He left the dining room table chair pushed out for Gavin, and he planned on leaving the TV on too, so he could watch something, if he wanted.</p><p>Once everything was taken care of, Conan made his way back to his bedroom to get changed into pajamas, making a stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading back to the living room to relax and watch a little TV before going to bed.  He figured he might as well wait a little to see if Gavin showed back up anyway.  If he didn’t, he’d see him the next day, he was sure.</p><p>By the time Gavin showed back up, Conan had just started dozing off on the couch.  Gavin’s voice and the panic in it made Conan jump, whipping around to look at him, eyes wide in shock.   “Gavin?  What the hell happened?” he asked, looking him over and trying to take in the extent of the damage.  There was blood <em> everywhere, </em> it was hard to tell where it was coming from exactly, or which injury was the worst.  It wasn’t like he could have done anything to help him, bandaging a wound on a ghost wasn’t really possible.</p><p>The information Gavin gave him was useful, and he tucked it away in his mind for later, he’d have to add it to the list of his notes, and he planned on jotting it down on his phone so he at least had some record of it, in case it got buried.  A Russian man who had an android and fucked with androids didn’t really narrow it down very much, but knowing that the guy was Russian was incredibly helpful.</p><p>“Try to breathe, okay?” Conan said, both to Gavin and to himself.  He was shaken up, and clearly so was Gavin.  “Is this what he did to you?  You can change how you look, you just have to try.  Just try to breathe, try to calm down, and try to focus on how you <em> want </em> to look, it might work.  I don’t know, there’s a lot I don’t know about this…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin would rather be punched in the face than be seen crying. But as he stood there, shocked and panicked and wracked with fear, tears fell thick and heavy down Gavin’s cheeks, his eyebrows knotted upwards. He was aware that Conan couldn’t <em> actually </em> help him. He was dead, he was lucky this had happened when he had someone to talk to at all. </p><p>“What the fuck did he do to me?!” Gavin demanded, taking a step towards Conan and stopping when that resulted in <em> something </em> slopping to the ground at his feet. Gavin looked down, and made a distressed sound as his insides began to slide past the incision made down his body. “What the fuck did he do to me, why the hell did he open me up?!” Gavin cried, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to literally keep himself together. </p><p>Gavin looked up, his eyes wild as he met Conan’s, and as instructed, he started taking deep, rattling breaths. He didn’t take his eyes off Conan, his tears carving tracks through the blood on Gavin’s face. He trembled like a leaf, terrified, his jaw hanging open as he sucked in deep, desperate mouthfuls of air. </p><p>“It’s not real. I’m a ghost, i’m not-- i’m not cut open, it’s not real,” Gavin gasped, his teeth bared as he continued to pull in air. “I’m-- I’m in my shitty apartment with the prettiest man i’ve ever fuckin’ met, who’s way out of my league, who so fuckin’ kind and gentle i never would have stood a chance.” As Gavin spoke, and the panic began to ebb away, the gore began to disappear as well. “I knew i said i’d cut this shit out but i can’t stop looking at your mouth. I wanna kiss you so bad, your lips look so fuckin soft, and i know your hair would be too. God, you could wreck me with just a kiss,” Gavin whispered, his eyes shuddering as he reached up to wipe away his tears. All the blood started to fade from his skin, and as it did, Gavin’s smashed face healed as well. Gavin’s shoulders still trembled, but eventually he stood there as normal as before, all traces of blood having vanished. </p><p>Gavin peered down at his hands, turning them over when he saw they were clean. He very, <em> very </em> tentatively touched his stomach, and then looked down at it, sighing in relief when it wasn’t cut open. </p><p>“I can leave if you want. If that made you uncomfortable,” Gavin said roughly, not looking at Conan. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan’s heart was racing and his chest heaved with each deep breath he took.  He saw plenty of horrible things in his line or work and with his ability to see the dead, but despite seeing everything he had, he was never prepared to see so much gore.  He hadn’t expected it, Gavin had appeared so normal so far, seeing him now shook him to his core.  He wasn’t afraid, he was more shocked than anything, but he was also worried.  He had seen the result of some violent deaths but this was probably the worst by far.</p><p>He got up off the couch when Gavin made a step towards him, brows drawn up and biting his lower lip.  He took a couple steps towards him to try to help, reaching out to touch him before stopping short.  He wanted to help him, but he didn’t know <em> how </em> .  There was nothing he could really <em> do </em>.  He couldn’t touch him, he couldn’t make it better.  He had no answers for him, he didn’t know what happened to him, even though it was kind of obvious.</p><p>Gavin looked so <em> scared, </em> and it broke Conan’s heart that he couldn’t do anything to help him.  He wanted to wipe his tears, help hold him together, and reassure him that he was okay, even if he really wasn’t.  All he could do was watch him and hope that his advice helped.  A small smile tugged on the corners of his lips as Gavin rambled away to himself.  He was glad to see that it was working, that all of the gore was starting to disappear and Gavin was starting to look more like himself again.  His smile grew a little wider, calming down more now that Gavin was calmer, listening as Gavin rambled on to him.</p><p>Conan took a step towards him, a little tentative, leaving only a couple feet between them, but still unsure of what to do.  He kept watching him, to make sure he really was okay, brows still furrowed.  He wet his dry lips with his tongue, his eyes dropping down to Gavin’s lips briefly.  He <em> wanted </em> to kiss him.  He wanted his hands in his hair.  But they couldn’t touch.  They couldn’t kiss.</p><p>“No, you don’t have to go,” he murmured instead.  “I’m okay…  Are <em> you </em> okay?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin didn’t look at Conan. He stood there shaking, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried not to think about that house. He knew he was only so shaken up because it had happened to him. Gavin had seen more than his fair share of blood and guts in his time as a homicide detective. It wasn’t his first time seeing some gore. But living it was totally different, feeling the terror of knowing what was going to happen and being unable to stop it, <em> that was completely different </em>. Part of what made a good detective was having a certain level of detachment from the case. Gavin couldn’t detach himself from something that had happened to him. </p><p>Instead of answering, Gavin just nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to be subtle about the way he dried his new tears. He felt shellshocked, like he needed a very stiff drink, and god how he wished he could chain smoke. Gavin refused to sniff, and instead hid his face a little further, wiping snot off his top lip when it collected there. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Gavin’s gaze flicked up to see where Conan was standing, only to drop away again when he realised he was standing <em> close </em> . It took Gavin a moment to look back up at him again, and his gaze slid around a little before finally meeting Conan’s eye. As close as they were, Gavin could see how blue Conan’s eyes were. They were almost transparent, the colour was so incredibly beautiful, and Gavin’s eyes shuddered at the <em> longing </em> that speared through him. They didn’t have to kiss. He just wanted to be touched. Gavin’s eyebrows furrowed up as that want wrote itself across his expression.</p><p>Gavin took a step closer, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. </p><p>“You can’t do shit with the evidence i got you. I’ll get you something you can use next time-- i’ll be smarter,” Gavin murmured, taking another step. </p><p>When he was close enough, Gavin reached out to touch Conan, expecting his hand to pass through him and doing it anyway. But when Gavin’s knuckles reached Conan’s arms, instead of passing through he was met with warm resistance. Gavin’s mouth parted in shock, his fingers opening and curling around Conan’s elbow. </p><p>“<em> Oh my fucking god </em> ,” Gavin breathed, his breath shaking as he ran a hand up Conan’s chest and shoulder, his fingers spreading across the side of his neck. “ <em> What the fuck,” </em> Gavin breathed. “What the fuck. <em> What the fuck?!” </em> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The temptation to reach out and touch, even though he knew he couldn’t, was so hard to resist, especially when he looked at him like <em> that </em> .  Despite how much time they’d spent together so far, Conan hadn’t looked too closely at him.  They’d never been so close.  Gavin’s eyes were such a <em> beautiful </em> shade of green.  They were so pale, he hadn’t quite been able to tell what color they were before.  He hadn’t quite realized just how many scars he had either.  The one across his nose was the most prominent, and really the only one he’d noticed, but up close, he could see just how many there were.  They piqued his interest, he was curious about where they came from, but he wasn’t going to ask now.</p><p>“No, I can do plenty.  How many Russians with androids live in mansions in Detroit?” Conan asked.  If he could find the names of all of the families living in mansions in the area, he could sift through and pick out all of the Russian surnames, find their phone numbers, and call them, posing as a CyberLife employee, checking in on their android.  If they claimed they didn’t have an android and sounded genuine enough, he could check them off his list.  If they claimed to have one, hesitated in answering, or sounded like they were lying, he’d go snooping.  He had a plan, he just needed to get to work.  But it could wait until the morning.  He was going to focus on Gavin now, and get some sleep when he could.</p><p>When Gavin reached out, Conan expected his hand to just pass through, as all of the others always did.  But they didn’t.  Conan’s eyes followed Gavin’s hand, widening when they made contact with his arm and he could <em> feel it. </em>   It didn’t feel like a normal human to human touch, it didn’t feel like skin against skin.  It felt a little cold, light but there, absolutely <em> there </em>.  He sucked in a sharp gasp when Gavin gripped his elbow, recoiling on instinct but stopping himself before he could pull out of his grasp.</p><p>Conan’s chest rose and fell a bit faster with each quick deep breath he pulled in, eyes wide.  He was shocked.  He had gone twenty-nine years without being touched by a single ghost.  No one had made contact before, and he had no explanation for it.  He didn’t know why Gavin could touch him.  Confused and surprised as he was, he didn’t pull away.  He reached out with a trembling hand, a little hesitant, fingertips brushing across Gavin’s bicep.</p><p>“This has never happened to me before…” he breathed barely above a whisper.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>It was hard for Gavin not to wrap his arms around Conan. It was hard not to crawl into his arms. All he’d wanted was some kind of conversation, some kind of contact, and now he had both. But he could see how freaked out the contact made Conan, and maybe if he hadn’t just had one <em> hell </em> of a night, he’d be freaked out, too. What did it mean? Why could he touch him?</p><p>“Don’t pull away. I’m not gonna jump you, just don’t pull away, please,” Gavin breathed, shifting a little closer and staring up at Conan as he ran his hand back down his chest. “You’re so warm, baby. I didn’t realise i was so cold,” Gavin said roughly, choked up again. A part of him was afraid that this would be his only chance to experience touch again. He was scared it was going to get snatched away, because Gavin knew it shouldn’t be happening. </p><p>“You okay?” Gavin asked, his voice cracking at the low volume. He huffed out a laugh, and then added, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan didn’t <em> want </em> to pull away.  He was fascinated, terrified, confused, happy, and excited all at the same time.  He didn’t understand why they could touch.  He didn’t know if Gavin was special, or if maybe he was just stronger than most others.  He didn’t know if maybe <em> he </em> changed, if others could touch him now, and if they <em> could, </em> he was afraid of what that meant.  But at the same time, <em> he could be touched. </em>  He’d been so touch starved, the only physical contact he ever got was from Connor, or handshakes from clients, very rarely hugs.  Being able to feel someone else’s touch, even if it wasn’t quite the same as a human touch, made him so happy.</p><p>He swallowed thickly and gave Gavin a small nod in acknowledgement when he was pleaded with to not pull back.  Gavin’s wandering hand sent a chill up his spine and left his skin covered in goosebumps, but he didn’t pull away.</p><p>“I’m okay.  I’ve had enough nightmare fuel to last me a couple weeks, but I’m okay,” he said with a short laugh, a small, almost nervous smile creeping onto his lips.  “This is…  It’s so new.  I didn’t know this was even possible.  It’s never happened before.  I don’t know why it’s happening, and it scares me.  I don’t know if you’re just…  special or something, or if it’s me, if <em> all </em> ghosts can touch me now…”</p><p>He slowly, tentatively, slid his hand up to the side of Gavin’s neck and to his jaw, cupping it in his hand and running his thumb over Gavin’s bottom lip.  He was still considering kissing him.  He was curious what it would feel like, if it would feel similar to how their touches felt, or if it would feel more like a regular kiss.  He thought it might be the former, but there was only one way to find out.  He hesitated for a moment before finally closing what little was left of the gap between them, pressing his lips to Gavin’s.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin huffed out a laugh, his tongue swiping along his lip again as he stared up into Conan’s face like a deer in headlights. He didn’t miss those goosebumps, or the way he was being looked at. Conan <em> liked </em> it, just as much as Gavin, and that knowledge helped set something at ease inside of Gavin. </p><p>“It was me who was <em> living </em> that nightmare, asshole,” Gavin retorted, his smile falling a little as Conan went on to explain his worries. He hadn’t said it specifically… but if all ghosts could touch him, did that mean they could hurt him, too? Gavin thought there was only one way to find out, but he wasn’t going to suggest punching Conan right that minute. There were far more important things we wanted to do, and it looked like Gavin was getting his wish. </p><p>His breath froze in his lungs when Conan’s hand cupped his jaw. Gavin didn’t say a <em> word </em>, silently pleading, inwardly begging, and afraid if he so much as moved he’d scare Conan away. But then his thumb swiped across his bottom lip, and Gavin was only just quick enough to kiss it as it passed. His brows furrowed upwards, and his eyes shuddered halfway closed - and when Conan leaned in to kiss him, Gavin met him halfway, his hand jumping up to rest beneath Conan’s ear. </p><p>Despite how warm Conan was, and despite him being tangible, it wasn’t the <em> same </em>. Gavin pressed close, and tugged Conan closer, his hand sliding up the back of his head and into his hair. Just like Gavin suspected, it was like silk. </p><p>“I can barely feel you,” Gavin breathed, shifting even closer. “I want more of you, i need more of you. Fuck, i knew you’d be a good kisser,” Gavin said again, catching Conan’s face in the hand not tangled in his hair. Gavin bit Conan’s bottom lip and dragged his teeth along it, opening his mouth as he kissed him a second time. He wanted Conan to fuck him then and there, but he knew they couldn’t. One step at a time. He just wanted Conan’s hands on him. He wanted his undivided attention. At least for the time being, Gavin knew he had it. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin’s retort made Conan’s lips twitch up in a smile, despite his nerves.  He was right, he was the one living the nightmare.  Conan couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be in his shoes.  He was relieved it seemed to be over, at least for now.  If it happened once, it could happen again, and hopefully next time, Gavin would be able to fix himself easily enough.</p><p>Conan didn’t <em> get </em> nervous easily.  It usually took something substantial to shake him.  Seeing Gavin standing in his living room with his guts falling out all over his floor was definitely substantial enough, but the <em> physical contact </em>.  That was something else.  He was amazed by it and so afraid at the same time, but he was far too interested to stop.  He longed for touch, and he was getting it, even if it wasn’t the kind of touch he was used to or what he perceived as normal.</p><p>He wasn’t necessarily disappointed that kissing didn’t feel the same as it did with a human.  He could still feel it, and that was what mattered.  He didn’t hesitate to move closer when Gavin pulled him towards him, snaking an arm around Gavin’s waist to pull him flush up against him.  Conan let out a shaky breath against Gavin’s lips when his hand slipped into his hair, eyes closing as he leaned into the touch.</p><p>When Gavin went in for a second kiss, Conan returned it without hesitation.  He groaned into it, a low sound caught in the back of his throat.  He wanted more.  He didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t want to stop kissing him.  A part of him, briefly, thought to guide him back towards the bedroom, but he didn’t even know how that would work.  He wasn’t even going to attempt to figure it out.</p><p>Conan broke the kiss when he needed to come up for air, pressing his forehead against Gavin’s while he caught his breath, swallowing thickly.  His hand slid up from his jaw and into his hair, lightly scratching his nails against his scalp as he closed his fist.  “You’re so…  <em> captivating. </em>  I don’t want to stop…” he breathed against his lips, barely above a whisper.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>Gavin was used to a lot more song and dance than this. He’d never been in a position similar before. Usually he went out for drinks with someone, and made out in their car or on their doorstep. Usually they flirted on some kind of app for a day or two first, and Gavin would invite them around for a one-time fling. This scenario with conan was none of those things. Conan was the only man on earth who could see him, talk to him, touch him. He didn’t want to block him out - Gavin wanted him as close as he could get him. </p><p> </p><p>Gavin shuddered when Conan groaned, swallowing the sound with a barely audible whine of his own. It was a sound that turned into a rough moan when Conan’s hand moved into his hair, the scrape of his nails against his scalp making Gavin weak in the knees. </p><p>Gavin’s expression stretched in a wide grin as they caught their breath, and he huffed out a laugh at Conan’s words. “Good to know i’m not the only one who’s horny,” Gavin murmured against him, pulling back just enough so that he could see Conan’s face. He let his fingers trace Conan’s nose and cheeks, the shell of his ear, and the line of his jaw. </p><p>“You’re so fucking handsome, baby. I can’t stop looking at you,” Gavin breathed, running his thumb over Conan’s lips and down his chin. Gavin tipped Conan’s jaw up, and kissed up the pillar of his throat, scraping his teeth against the skin and sucking a hickey into the junction of his jaw and neck. He used the hand in Conan’s hair to pull his head back, and hummed as he littered Conan in dark bites. The hand not in his hair travelled down Conan’s body, and slipped beneath his shirt, his fingers splayed out across his lower back. </p><p>“How the fuck are you single,” Gavin breathed, “How the fuck has nobody claimed you yet? You’re a model who can talk to the dead, you’re the most interesting motherfucker in this city,” Gavin said against his ear, biting gently at the shell of it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>This wasn’t something Conan <em> did </em> .  He didn’t make out with people he’d only just met.  He surely didn’t consider dragging them off to bed so soon either.  He needed a bond first, he needed some kind of connection, he couldn’t do one-night stands.  He was never interested in hookups.  He wanted relationships.  But this thing with Gavin was <em> different </em> .  It was <em> special </em>.  Gavin himself was special.  They had something he had with no one else before, and it was stupid to fall for someone who lived on an entirely different existential plane, and he wasn’t quite there yet, he wasn’t falling for him, but that possibility was there, he could feel it in his gut.</p><p>Conan’s cheeks and ears were burning red, he felt so hot and the moan that left Gavin only made him flush more.  He let out a short, breathy laugh at Gavin’s words, a small smile on his lips.  Gavin’s fingers felt ice cold against his hot skin, but he craved it, he couldn’t get enough.  His tongue shot out to swipe along his lower lip after Gavin’s finger, and when Gavin tipped his head back by his chin, Conan’s eyes closed with a shaky exhale.</p><p>He let out a hum when Gavin started working a hickey into his neck, but when his head was pulled back further by his hair, he moaned, the sound coming out far more shameless than he intended.  His face only burned hotter, and he was glad Gavin’s mouth was busy so he couldn’t see.  A shudder rolled up his spine when Gavin’s hand came in contact with bare skin underneath his shirt.  He sucked in a gasp, which very quickly morphed into a deep groan at the mouth against his ear.</p><p><em> “Fuck, </em> please don’t stop,” he breathed, eyes still closed with his brows furrowed up.  His arm around his waist shifted so he could slip his hand beneath Gavin’s shirt, fingers running along defined muscle and small scars he found along his skin.  “I don’t wanna stop…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Conan moaned, Gavin shuddered with a low groan in the back of his throat. He was getting wound up <em> fast </em>, and his kisses were getting messy and distracted. He was getting used to the new feeling of kissing, the barely-there touches, and the heat that radiated off Conan like a furnace. He knew his hands were cold, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He loved how Conan kept shivering whenever he touched him. </p><p>Gavin’s stomach sucked in when warm hands slid under his shirt. He shifted a little to give him more room, only for his head to bow with a groan when Conan started pleading with him. Gavin looked up at him, at how his face was flushed high at his cheekbones, at how his lips were parted, and his head was tipped back like Gavin was the best thing he’d ever had. </p><p>Gavin nudged Conan back, just to see if he could. And when it worked, Gavin grabbed Conan’s shirt and marched him backwards, pulling him in for a kiss as he slammed him up against his living room wall. Gavin slipped a thigh between Conan’s legs and grinded up, licking into his mouth as he wound his hand back into his hair and made his grip tight. Gavin rolled his body up against Conan, moaning into his mouth. He shrugged his jacket off, but instead of hitting the floor, the jacket simply vanished when it left Gavin’s body. </p><p>“You want my mouth or my hand?” Gavin breathed, rolling his body against him again and tracing his fingers beneath his waistband. “Let me look after you, baby. Mouth or hand?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan loved every kiss, every sound Gavin made, every touch he left behind.  He loved every second of attention and contact he got.  He had no idea how they were going to continue, he didn’t know how any of it was going to work, but if they tried something and it worked out, he wasn’t against going forward.  He just didn’t want it to end.  He wanted more.  He wanted to feel him everywhere, and he wanted to touch and kiss every inch of him too.</p><p>It wasn’t just Gavin’s hands and lips that were cold.  His entire body was.  His hand slid up Gavin’s front, exploring and still trying to get used to the sensation.  He was going to let his hand explore, play with his nipples, if it was possible, and maybe wander south, but Gavin nudged him enough to make him take a half-step back, and enough to make Conan’s eyebrows raise in surprise.</p><p>He nearly stumbled when Gavin marched him back against the wall, gasping against Gavin’s lips when he was pushed back against it.  His hand slid from Gavin’s hair back down his neck to rest on his shoulder while his other hand tried to continue its exploration beneath his shirt, up until Gavin’s thigh grinded up against him.  He groaned into the kiss and rolled his hips against Gavin’s.  His grip on his shoulder tightened and his other hand snaked down and around to his side, slipping around to his back and down below his waistband.  His head fell back to rest against the wall when the kiss was broken, breathless.</p><p>“Can both be an option?” he asked breathlessly with a bit of a smile, his voice wrecked already.  He was torn, because he knew his mouth would feel better than his hand, but he also wanted his mouth elsewhere, on his lips, on his neck, his ears, his collarbones, his shoulders, everywhere.  “I can’t decide…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan was the prettiest man Gavin had ever met. <em> Everything </em> he did was pretty. The sounds he made, the way he’d groaned into the kiss, the way his body moved against Gavin’s, and the way his face looked when they parted. He’d said it before, but he had no idea how Conan was single. No amount of social awkwardness hid a man like him, and Gavin wondered if he’d ever have had a real chance back in the real world. Would Conan have even looked twice at him? It occured to Gavin that this was going to be nothing like his usual. He wouldn’t be able to kiss Conan goodbye in the morning and send him on his way, never to be seen or heard from again - unless Gavin wanted it. No, Conan was essentially the last man on earth to Gavin. He was the person solving his case. After everything was over and they were a sticky mess against the wall or in the sheets, he’d have to talk to him again. Everything Gavin said right now would hang between them like an anvil. It was a reality that seemed far away and unimportant to Gavin as he took in the rough way Conan was speaking. </p><p>“You’re a greedy motherfucker, huh?” Gavin said in a rumble against his lips, shivering at the journey his warm hands made across Gavin’s body. He laughed against him, biting and tugging at Conan’s lip again and unable to resist following it with a kiss. He tried to lift Conan’s shirt up and off, but his fingers kept sliding through the fabric once it reached a certain point. Gavin made a frustrated noise and a murmured, “Get rid of this, baby,” as he shifted gears and started to paw at the elastic waistband of Conan’s sweatpants. Gavin could slide his hands in until the elastic reached his top knuckles, only for them to melt through the fabric as he passed through it. He huffed an angry breath, trying again, looking down to watch as he failed a second time. </p><p>There was a pregnant pause where Gavin obviously wasn’t sure what to do. He frowned down at his hands resting on Conan’s frustratingly covered thighs, his fingertips twitching a few times against him. He glanced up at Conan, and then away… and then up at him again, frowning as though the pants not moving was Conan’s fault. </p><p>“Take your fucking clothes off,” Gavin bitched at him, toeing out of his shoes, then stripping his shirt, his jeans, and his briefs. As Gavin cast each piece of clothing aside, it disappeared alongside his jacket - the fact Gavin had no clothes to get back into was a detail he hadn’t picked up on yet. He pressed back up against Conan when he was done, and mouthed at his neck, humming as he sucked another dark line of hickeys down his throat and across his left collarbone. </p><p>“I’d wine and dine a man like you,” Gavin said, hot and dirty against Conan’s ear. “Take you somewhere to eat, make you laugh, make you look nowhere else but me all night,” Gavin scraped his teeth against Conan’s ear, his hand travelling down until he was cupping between his legs. “We’d fuck in the car under a bridge somewhere. I’d ride you, i’d make it rough and deep and fucking <em> perfect </em> baby, and you wouldn’t have to keep quiet. It’d just be us. The whole damn car would move, your hands would be all over me, it’d be fucking heaven. I want your fucking hands on me, Conan. I want you so fucking bad, baby, have since the first time i saw you. You’re hot as hell and just as smart and I wanna hear you, i wanna feel you,” Gavin rumbled roughly, grinding his palm up against him. As soon as he was able to, Gavin wrapped his hand around Conan. He pulled back just enough to watch his face as he started a long, slow stroke, his eyes lidded as he watched him. Gavin shifted, taking himself in hand with a low groan, and pressing the heads of their cocks together. He wrapped his hand around both of them, letting out a low groan as he looked down to watch their cocks sliding together.</p><p>“I wanna hear you moan, baby. Don’t hold it back, okay?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>So maybe Conan was a little greedy.  He was absolutely <em> needy, </em>in that moment, there was no doubt about that.  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been touched in any way other than platonically.  It had been a long while, he knew that much.  He was sensitive enough as it was, but add in the new sensation of Gavin’s touch, cold and light, he only felt more sensitive.</p><p>“Maybe a little,” he murmured in return, letting their kiss muffle his groan.  He could <em> feel </em> Gavin struggle to get his shirt off, he could feel his hands and the very subtle movement of his shirt.  When Gavin told him to take off his shirt, he reluctantly let go of him to grab his shirt at the hem and lift it up above his head, pulling his shirt up and off before tossing it onto the floor in the direction of the laundry room.  He could feel Gavin fight with his pants too, although there really wasn’t any budging there.  Unlike his shirt, his pants refused to move.</p><p>He tried not to laugh when Gavin demanded that he take off his clothes, but he couldn’t quite contain it.  He chuckled and did as he was told, pushing his pants and boxers down low enough to step out of, kicking them towards the laundry room too.  He noticed that Gavin’s clothes were just disappearing as he stripped, and that was a little concerning.  He had no idea how he was going to get them back, if he even could.  He had a couple ideas that might work, but he wasn’t too concerned about it then and there, that was a bridge to cross later.</p><p>As soon as Gavin was back against him with his mouth on his neck, Conan’s head fell back against the wall with a moan.  His hands came up to rest on Gavin’s hips, unsure of where else to go.  Their proximity prevented him from getting to his front, and he was hesitant to try anything involving his ass without any lube, so they just rested there, keeping him close, at least for now.  A smile found its way onto his lips when Gavin started talking.  A date sounded nice, it had been <em> such </em> a long time since he’d been on a date.  It did occur to him that it was impossible for them, they could never go out to a restaurant and have dinner the way Gavin was describing, but they could do the same thing at home.  He could pick up something, bring it home, and he could eat and Gavin could follow through with his plans, but that was something he could bring up later.</p><p>A shudder rolled through him when Gavin’s teeth scraped against his ear.  He moaned and rolled his hips against Gavin’s hand as he listened to him talk, and at the mention of his hands, his grip tightened just briefly before he loosened his grip to let them wander again, one staying put while the other slid up to his chest, taking a moment to pinch and roll each nipple between his fingers.</p><p>When Gavin’s hand finally wrapped around him, Conan’s eyes closed and he moaned, rolling his hips into Gavin’s hand.  He opened his eyes and lifted his head off of the wall to look down between them, watching as Gavin pressed their cocks together.  He gave another roll of his hips with a loud moan as he moved to mouth along Gavin’s jaw, pressing kisses and nips against his skin until he got to his neck, where nips turned into bites.  He tried to leave his own hickeys on Gavin’s neck, but despite his efforts, there didn’t seem to be any change, his skin looked exactly the same.</p><p>“That’s hardly fair,” Conan mumbled, kissing a trail up to Gavin’s ear instead, nipping at the lobe.  You feel so good…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A slow smile spread across Gavin’s expression when Conan started to moan. The sounds went directly south, making Gavin a little dizzy with want. Gavin watched his face as he pulled each new sound out of Conan, eating up how easy it was to get what he wanted. If this was how he sounded when the touch was barely there, Gavin ached to know how he might have sounded if Gavin were alive. </p><p>“Just like that, baby,” Gavin whispered when Conan moaned again, using his thumb to smear the slick of his precum over both of them. He wasn’t really sure if it worked or not, and it made Gavin curious as to what <em> would </em> happen when they both eventually came. But Gavin didn’t linger on it - they’d find out soon enough. </p><p>Unlike their kisses leading up to that point, Gavin slowed down a little as he moved against Conan. He let himself enjoy it, letting out his own rough moan when Conan played with his nipples, and letting his head tip to one side to let him have more room to kiss and bite. He laughed when Conan complained, and reached his free hand up to curl around his head and tangle in his hair.</p><p>“Wish i could feel you properly,” Gavin breathed, his eyes closing as he melted into the kisses up his neck. Gavin’s mouth fell open, his head tipped to one side, and he tightened his grip around their cocks as he started to fuck a little faster into the hot friction of his hand. It felt so good, and Gavin’s head tipped back in bliss, his balls making a rude slapping sound that he ignored every time he fucked up against him. Eventually, Gavin shifted so he could catch Conan’s mouth, kissing him deep and filthy. Gavin was in heaven, his free hand scrunched in Conan’s hair as their bodies moved together.  </p><p>Abruptly, Gavin shifted, letting himself slip out of the frotting hold he had on both of them, but keeping his hand moving around Conan. Gavin sunk down into a crouch, leaving messy kisses down his neck, chest, and stomach as he went, and tugging at his nipples with a bit of a grin. Gavin wasn’t in the mood to tease, and so he looked up at Conan, biting a trail of hickeys from his belly button to his groin. </p><p>“Don’t pussyfoot around. I want you to grip my hair and fuck my face, Conan. Make it rough, baby. <em> Use me </em> , got it?” Gavin licked his bottom lip and swallowed, then took a deep breath, keeping his eyes raised to Conan’s face as he cupped his balls and leaned in to suck on them. Gavin braced his forearm against Conan’s stomach, leaving hot kisses up his cock, before making eye contact again and sucking him into his mouth. It was obvious from the way Gavin moved that he’d done this plenty of times before, that he’d done it a <em> lot </em> , and that he loved it. His eyes shuddered closed, and he released a quiet moan that was rough around the edges. He looked up at him again and <em> grinned </em>, pulling off to run the flat of his tongue around and around Conan’s head. </p><p>“Feels weird giving head and not being kicked in the face with the taste of cock. Feel weird for you too?” Gavin asked as he swallowed, looking up at him as he sunk back down, taking Conan until he hit the back of Gavin’s throat. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan couldn’t even imagine what it would have felt like if Gavin was alive.  It had been so long since he’d been in a relationship, he almost forgot what it felt like to have someone else’s hands on him.  Even if the touch wasn’t quite the same, it was similar <em> enough </em> .  He wished he could find a way to make Gavin feel alive again, for both of them.  He just didn’t know how.  Possession was possible, but who could he possess?  They didn’t know anyone else that could help them, and having Gavin possess <em> him </em> wasn’t really going to get them anywhere.</p><p>“Me too,” he breathed against his ear.  He mouthed along the shell of it and back down to bite nonexistent marks into his jawline and neck, moaning as their hips moved together.  His exploring hand slid around to his back again, sliding lower to squeeze a handful of his ass.  He still couldn’t quite believe that they could feel each other at all, it was such a shock, he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he absolutely could feel him.</p><p>He returned Gavin’s kiss with an open mouthed moan, moving the hand on his shoulder up to cup the back of his neck.  Gavin’s hand around him and cock rubbing against him felt so good, despite it all being so cold.  He kept moaning into their kiss until he had to break it for air, his head falling back against the wall as he tried to catch his breath.  He groaned as Gavin worked his way south, half lidded eyes trying to watch him.  When Gavin tugged at his nipples, he moaned, but the sensation was gone as quick as it came.  The movement of his hips slowed as Gavin got lower, and stopped completely once he reached his destination.</p><p>At Gavin’s orders, Conan nodded, lifting his head up off the wall so he could watch him better, but it fell back against the wall as soon as Gavin’s mouth was on him, hissing at the coldness against his balls.  It was such a strange feeling, but he <em> liked </em> it.  One of his hands moved to tangle in Gavin’s hair, curling into a fist.  He moaned at the kisses against his cock and when Gavin finally sucked him down, Conan <em> moaned, </em> loud and shameless.  He hadn’t known what to expect.  He didn’t expect his mouth to be warm, since the rest of him wasn’t, but it almost felt colder than his hand.  He shivered and let out a shaky breath as Gavin started moving, moaning when Gavin moaned around him.  He had his head tilted a little so he could manage to look down at him, expression pinched in pleasure.</p><p>“It’s so cold, but it feels so good,” Conan answered, sounding wrecked.  He watched as Gavin swallowed him down, his grip in his hair tightening.  He held him there by his hair and gave a slow, mostly shallow roll of his hips, followed by another and another, gradually picking up the pace.  He was happy to do as he was told.  He wasn’t too afraid of hurting him.  He wasn’t even sure he could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to still be a little careful, or at least wary.  But then again, Gavin told him to be rough.  If he needed him to stop, he’d pull away.  Conan’s grip in his hair wasn’t so tight that Gavin couldn’t pull away if he needed to.  So he sped up his pace, rolling his hips and guiding Gavin’s head by his hair, his moans getting louder and more frequent as he went on.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin groaned happily when Conan gripped his hair. It stung just the way Gavin liked it, and meant that he could feel Conan’s reactions in his hands. Without the taste and smell, it felt a little like he was giving head to someone’s strap-on - still hot, and still a lot of fun, but not quite the same. Conan’s hands in his hair, and the way he moaned, helped Gavin push that thought away. </p><p>He thought it was sweet how Conan was being so gentle with him. Gavin wasn’t used to that, and it made the corners of his lips twitch a little in a smile he couldn’t quite manage with his mouth so full. He felt the moment Conan started to trust himself, and Gavin let out a filthy moan to encourage him. His tongue slid between his bottom teeth and Conan’s cock so he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting him, and he let his jaw turn slack as he relaxed his throat and pushed forwards, moaning as he took Conan down his throat. Gavin’s eyes were <em> black </em> as he looked up at him, one hand holding onto Conan’s thigh to keep steady as the other slid up Conan’s stomach and abs, exploring the muscle there. </p><p>He was so hard it hurt, and he could feel precome sliding down the base of his cock, which was hanging heavy between his legs. Gavin closed his eyes and swallowed, then made a demanding sound up at Conan - <em> Hurry up and fuck me. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan let himself get a little rougher, moving his hips a bit faster with Gavin’s encouragement.  He moaned, gripping his hair tighter.  It was such a weird sensation, but he was getting used to it.  It felt good, and even better when Gavin’s jaw went slack.  He slowed his movements a little to push all the way in a few times before holding him there for a few seconds, groaning.  He wasn’t sure if Gavin would need to come up for air.  He wasn’t sure if ghosts needed to breathe at all.  He was practically an expert on ghosts, he knew things very few others did, but he was learning there was a <em> lot </em> he didn’t know.</p><p>When Gavin made a sound at him, Conan guided him back by his head and pulled his hips back, letting go of his hair to comb his fingers through it.  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough and deep.  “Here, get up.”  He took his hand and helped guide him to his feet before leading him back into the bedroom.  “Go lay on the bed, I’ll be there in a second.”</p><p>He let go of him to go retrieve a bottle of lube from one of his unpacked boxes, bringing it over towards the bed.  He tossed it onto the bed before climbing on, crawling over Gavin to press a kiss to his lips, deep and filthy as he rolled his hips down onto Gavin’s with a moan.  He pressed kisses down his body once he had to break for air, leaving a couple should-be hickeys on his way south.  He sucked a nipple into his mouth briefly, swirling his tongue around it before nipping at it, one at a time, before moving on.  As he moved lower, he grabbed the lube and popped it open, squeezing some onto his fingers.  He made sure to coat them well before slipping a hand down between Gavin’s legs.  He ran his finger over his entrance, teasing it before slowly pressing his middle finger in at the same time as he reached Gavin’s cock, licking a stripe from base to tip before taking the head into his mouth.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Much like Conan, Gavin wasn’t sure whether he needed to breathe or not. He <em> could </em> breathe, his chest rose and fell and he definitely went through the motions of breathing. But as Conan took Gavin’s head and held him in place, he realised that oxygen wasn’t something his body cried out for anymore. His body didn’t fight to stay alive. </p><p>Gavin’s eyes slipped closed as tears pricked Gavin’s lashes and clumped them together. His eyes always ran when he was deepthroating someone, and it seemed now was no different. He swallowed around Conan, his fingers curling against his stomach - only to make a surprised sound when he was pulled off of him. Gavin sat on the heels of his feet and looked up at Conan, coughing to clear his throat and then sucking on his bottom lip. </p><p>“Yeah? ‘Course i’m okay, what the fuck?” Gavin muttered, a little bit shocked when he was pulled to his feet and led towards the bedroom. Gavin huffed out a laugh when he was told to get on the bed, but didn’t need to be told twice. He got into the centre of it, still panting a little from being on his knees, and made an <em> incredibly </em> happy sniggering noise as Conan crawled over the top of him. He was exactly where he wanted to be - underneath Conan with their bodies pressed together.</p><p>Gavin’s arms wrapped around Conan when he was kissed, and he let out a rough rumble of sound that grew into a moan when Conan grinded down against him. Gavin arched up, and huffed out a laugh as Conan began making his way south. He didn’t think he was going to get laid tonight, he thought it would just be hands and mouths. But this was so much better, and Gavin let out a sob of pleasure as Conan practically worshipped his nipples. </p><p>“You’re like a damn furnace,” Gavin gasped, his legs spreading as Conan got between them. “Your skin, that fucking mouth is like an oven. Leaves a trail, i can feel where your hands’ve been,” he breathed, reaching down and running his fingers through Conan’s hair. He hummed happily as Conan teased his entrance - only to tense up and frown as the first finger was pressed inside of him. It was completely dry, despite Gavin having <em> watched </em> Conan coat his hand in lube. But before he could say anything, Conan’s searing hot mouth licked up Gavin’s cock and surrounded him, causing Gavin to cry out with how good it felt and arch up into it. </p><p>But as Conan moved his finger, Gavin hissed and tensed again. It was a thorn in his side against the heat of Conan’s mouth, and when the next push in resulted in Gavin groaning unhappily, he pushed Conan’s head off of him, his hand jumping to grip his wrist and pull his finger out of him. </p><p>“You using lube, baby?” Gavin asked, pushing so he was sitting up in bed and looking down at Conan’s fingers. They were unmistakably slick, there was plenty of lube on his fingers, and as Gavin tried to wipe it onto his own fingers, only for them to come back dry, his stomach dropped, and his jaw tensed as he realised what that meant. </p><p>“<em> Fuck </em> ,” Gavin whispered, combing an unhappy hand through his hair. “Fuck. <em> Fuck! Motherfucker-- Goddamn it!” </em> Gavin flopped back down against the mattress, and pressed his hand against his face. “Ain’t this just my fuckin’ luck? God, all i want is you to fuckin’ rail me and <em> the goddamn lube doesn’t work! </em>” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Your hands and skin are like ice,” Conan murmured against his skin.  He didn’t mind the cold though.  It was an entirely different sensation from what he was used to, it wasn’t warm at all, but that wasn’t a bad thing.  He craved his touch, and it was a relief that Gavin seemed to crave his.  He hadn’t even noticed how tense Gavin got when he’d pushed his finger inside.  He noticed he tensed, but he figured it was just him adjusting to the intrusion.  He hadn’t expected Gavin to push him away so soon after working up to a second.</p><p>“Yeah, of course,” he replied with a confused frown, looking from him to his fingers before he realized.  It had occurred to Conan that lube might be a problem.  He thought penetration as a whole was going to be a problem, regardless of which one was on the receiving end.  He couldn’t quite wrap his head around how it would work, and he supposed it would make sense that lube wouldn’t work.  Conan could feel Gavin and Gavin could feel him, but lube was something else, it made sense that it couldn’t be felt by Gavin or used by Gavin.  That meant that all they had were their bare hands and mouths.</p><p>Conan sighed, moving back up to press a kiss to his lips, giving a slow roll of his hips against Gavin’s.  “It’s okay.  We don’t have to.  We have our hands and mouths, and this,” he paused, giving another roll of his hips.  “What do you want me to do?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin sighed when Conan sighed, reaching an arm out for him as Conan moved back up his body, and hooking that arm around his neck when he was close enough. Gavin groaned into the kiss, huffing out a breath and spreading his knees either side of Conan at the first grind of his hips. Gavin let his hand play with that silky black hair as Conan spoke, and he let out a grunt and then a moan when he rolled his hips again, finishing off with a laugh. </p><p>“Stay here,” Gavin said, grinning up at him. “Can’t kiss you if you’re all the way down there. But only if you promise to blow me the next time i see you. Your mouth feels fucking unreal,” Gavin said around a laugh, combing through Conan’s hair with his fingers. “I’ve definitely got the better deal. I dunno how you stay hard if i’m cold,” Gavin commented, wrapping his arms around Conan’s neck again and pulling him down for a kiss Gavin made filthy from the start. </p><p>Gavin found it easier to roll his body against Conan’s now that he was on his back, and it was also easier to get a better angle now that their heights weren’t an issue. </p><p>“Conan, fuck…” Gavin moaned, the kiss breaking as Gavin’s head tipped back against the duvet. His back was in a shallow arch, pressing him up against Conan, and one of his hands was a claw against his shoulder blade, the short nails leaving shallow welts. If this had been normal, Gavin knew it wouldn’t have been enough for him. But the heat that came off Conan’s body was incredible, as was each slide of skin. </p><p>“Let me watch you come. I know you’ve gotta be close.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan pressed kisses along Gavin’s jaw, letting out a hum of approval as he listened to Gavin talk.  He liked kissing Gavin, he was happy to stay where he was so they could kiss more.  That was one of the reasons he’d requested hand and mouth earlier, so he couldn’t refuse Gavin now.  He couldn’t really refuse his request for later, either.  He wanted to give Gavin just as much attention as he’d been given.</p><p>“Promise,” he murmured against his jaw, giving it a nip before pulling back to look down at him.  He shifted to rest on his elbows on either side of him, letting one hand get tangled in his hair.  “It feels… different, but it’s not bad.  I don’t mind the cold.”  It didn’t feel any different than using ice in temperature play, it was something he could easily get used to.</p><p>He happily returned Gavin’s kiss, moaning into it as he rolled his hips with Gavin’s, grinding down on him.  He combed his fingers through Gavin’s hair while they kissed, letting out muffled moans and gasps as they moved.  When Gavin broke the kiss, Conan returned to pressing breathless kisses and nips along his jaw, ear, and neck.  He groaned and arched his back when he felt nails digging in and scratching, curling his hand in Gavin’s hair into a fist.</p><p>Gavin was right, he was getting close.  He sped up the rhythm of their hips, moving a bit rougher too.  He sucked should-be marks low on Gavin’s neck, moaning against his skin, louder and louder as they went on.  His movements started to get erratic as he got closer to the edge, resting his forehead against Gavin’s collarbone so he could breathe, gasp, and moan.  He rocked against him until he finally came, his hips stuttering as he let out a loud moan, expression pinched.  He kept moving, slowly rolling his hips as he rode it out, keeping up the movement for Gavin’s sake.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin was in heaven. He felt himself get lost in Conan, and happily allowed it, drowning in the kiss and swallowing Conan’s moans. He could feel the muscle moving beneath Conan’s skin, he could feel his shoulder blades sticking out from where he was leant on his elbows with his head bowed down, and he felt the slide and rock of Conan’s hips between his thighs and against him. Gavin loved all of it, but nothing compared to the heat of Conan’s skin. </p><p>The hand that clawed at Conan’s shoulder slipped down his body as they moved together. Gavin matched Conan’s moans, his eyes almost closed as his head tipped back and to the side, offering as much real estate on his neck as Conan wanted. Gavin was surprised at how much he didn’t mind at how vanilla the sex was. The sensation of it all was so new that they got away with it, and the way Gavin reacted beneath Conan made him wonder if maybe it had been a little longer than two weeks since he died; he was sensitive as hell. A month, maybe? He hadn’t masturbated since he died, so a month seemed right. </p><p>Gavin started to fall apart around the same time as Conan. His heels dug into the blankets, and he scratched welts into Conan’s spine as he clung onto him. Gavin let out a breathless sob of pleasure when his hair was pulled, resisting the urge to throw his head back as he gazed down his body to watch Conan instead. Gavin’s mouth hung open, quiet except for his heavy breathing as he let Conan fall apart, combing his hand through his hair as his thrusts got erratic, and smiling breathlessly as he finally came. Gavin felt his release hit his stomach and chest, and tried to run his fingers through it so he could look at Conan as he licked them clean. But Gavin’s skin was clean, aside from his own precum smeared beneath his belly button, and the reason why combined with a hot, shuddering thrust from Conan was all it took to push Gavin over the edge. </p><p>Gavin moaned out a wrecked, “<em> oh fuck </em> ,” his hand twisting in Conan’s hair as he arched up into him. This time Gavin’s head <em> did </em> tip back, and he let out a string of increasingly desperate and broken, “fuck, <em> fuck, fuck--” </em>s as he was pushed over the edge. He came with a sobbing moan, his body moving with it, before he clamped his thighs around Conan to make him stay still.</p><p>Gavin let go of Conan, letting out a happy sigh as he caught his breath. He was wearing a shit-eating grin, and rested his arms across his face with a contented groan. He felt loose and relaxed, but not exhausted like he would after sex. He was buzzed, and happy, and craved a bowl of pasta and a cigarette. </p><p>“Your come went through me,” Gavin said with a stupid laugh. He reached up, and pulled Conan down on top of him, catching his lips in a kiss as he went. It was a slow and lazy post-fuck kiss, which Gavin groaned happily into. His hand idly played with Conan’s hair as he leisurely made out with him, and only stopped when Conan needed to come up for air. </p><p>Gavin had no idea where he was going to go next. He wasn’t going back to his grave, he wasn’t going anywhere near that house until it was daytime. Probably Elijah’s. Prince could see him, as he’d found out, so he could hang out with her for a while. He couldn’t go home because Conan was now living in it, and he couldn’t kick Conan out of his own apartment, as much as he would have liked to. Elijah was his best choice, but he didn’t have to go right away. They could make out for a while. Gavin would have even made him coffee if he could touch things, as a thanks for the good and weird sex. He was definitely going to be thinking about it for the rest of the night. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kissing Gavin was addictive.  He didn't want to stop.  He was happy to stay there and keep kissing him long after they were both finished, but he was exhausted.  It had been a long day, a long <em> week, </em> really.  He was ready to go to bed, and he knew he was going to sleep well now too.</p><p>He lifted his head to watch as Gavin came undone, carding a hand through his hair.  It was beautiful to watch, the way his body moved against his, chasing his orgasm.  He laughed at Gavin's observation.  He hadn't noticed until Gavin pointed it out.  It was unfortunate that things worked that way, but they could find solutions, they could get creative.</p><p>Conan let out a happy hum as he was pulled down on top of him for a kiss.  He returned it happily, pleased with the slow and lazy pace of it.  His eyes closed, his hand still tangled in Gavin's hair.  When he had to break away for air, he rolled off of him, laying on his back beside him to try to catch his breath.</p><p>"That was… different," he commented, his voice still rough.  He looked over to him, reaching over to comb his fingers through Gavin's hair again, pushing it back out of his face.  "Any idea how you're going to get your clothes back?"</p><p>Not that anyone else was going to see him.  It didn't matter much, he figured, but walking around naked for the rest of his time here, stuck between worlds, Conan figured Gavin would want his clothes back.</p><p>"What are you gonna do now?  You don't sleep, do you?" Conan asked.  He was curious, because while other ghosts didn't sleep, Gavin seemed to be special somehow.  He didn't know how or why, but he was.  "Tomorrow, I'll start looking for that mansion.  I'll have to talk to my brother, he can help us."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin was relaxed. He enjoyed Conan’s hand in his hair, and when he rolled off and didn’t try to ask about feelings, Gavin relaxed even more. Turning on his side, Gavin trailed his hand down Conan’s stomach, and scritched his fingers through his happy trail once he reached it. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Gavin asked about his clothes, still oblivious to the fact that they were missing. He just assumed they were in the livingroom where he left them. He hadn’t had a reason to get out of them before, and had no reason to suspect they had vanished. </p><p>When asked what he planned to do next, Gavin sighed and stretched out next to him, giving a shrug of his shoulders. </p><p>“I dunno. Usually i end up in that yard, i always seem to find myself there, but i’m not going anywhere near that fucking house again until it’s daytime and i can see,” Gavin said, shrugging his shoulders. “I might go back to Eli’s. I visited earlier and found Prince. Turns out, cats can see ghosts too - d’you know that?” Gavin asked curiously. “Might hang out with her while Eli’s sleeping, wait for the sun to come up.”</p><p>Shifting in place, Gavin hooked a leg around Conan’s and slid his hand up his stomach and chest, smirking a little as he flicked his thumb over a nipple. He propped his head up with his hand as he looked down at Conan, sighing again as he played with the short hairs behind his ear. </p><p>“Now that the shock’s worn off, i think i’ll do better snooping around that house. I know my throat was slit and i was gutted. Now i just wanna know why, and i wanna know if he’s done it to anyone else. Do you know if ghosts can see other ghosts? Who knows how many bodies are in that yard,” Gavin said conversationally, thinking about it like a case now, instead of something that happened to him. “If i can see other ghosts i can question victims for you, give you something else to dig through. We might be able to get his rough neighbourhood location based on where his victims went missing,” Gavin said, before adding, “If we can get the house location we can get evidence. There’s no fucking way anybody can clean up the mess made from a slit throat and a gutting, i’m gonna be all over that room. I was also dragged by the android when my face got smashed in, so…” </p><p>Gavin frowned, his jaw working as another thought occurred to him. He hesitated before speaking again, sucking on his teeth, and then sighing again. </p><p>“Hey, uh… when you find my body, don’t call my ma, okay? I’m gonna look really rough, decomposing in a shallow grave for a month. She’s listed as next of kin, but… she doesn’t need to see that. ID me with my dental records, don’t ask her to come in and look at my clothes or my face.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Your clothes just…  kind of disappeared,” Conan pointed out.  He wasn’t sure if it was similar to how Gavin could will the gore away or not.  If that was the case, he could just imagine his clothes back on.  He <em> hoped </em> that was the case because if not, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take him seriously while working the case.  He’d be walking around naked everywhere.  Not that Conan would <em> mind </em> seeing him naked all the time, but they needed to get <em> some </em> work done.</p><p>He didn’t blame him for not wanting to go back to the mansion until daytime.  What he saw was horrific, and going back now could just result in the same nightmare.  Conan didn’t want him to wind up coming back terrified again.  Going back during the day would likely be more productive anyway.</p><p>“Yeah,” he answered when Gavin asked about Prince.  “They usually can.  Some can’t, or just don’t care enough to show that they can.”  He was glad she could see Gavin, though.  It was good for him to have some kind of normalcy, especially if he was just finding out how long he’d been gone for.  He needed to find some solid proof that Gavin had been missing for all that time before he could really bring it up to him, though.</p><p>“You <em> should </em> be able to see and interact with other ghosts.  If you can’t find any, there might not <em> be </em> any.  Not all murder victims stick around, some move on after they die, so I wouldn’t count on finding any others.  You might, but you might not,” he said with a sigh.  “If you <em> can </em> find others though, get as much information as you can from them.  Names, birthdays, dates they went missing, if they can remember.  I’ll be able to look them up that way and find out some info about them, find out where they lived and when they went missing.  I can build a map off that.  If he had an android helping him, though, I wouldn’t count on there still being a mess left behind…”</p><p>Androids were efficient and they did nothing half-assed.  If Gavin really had been gone for a year, the mess was long gone.  He gave him a nod with a thin smile at Gavin’s request.  He wouldn’t call her to ID him.  If the date was right, there wouldn’t be a face to ID.  The clothes would likely be too deteriorated too, all that would be left is bone.  They’d <em> have </em> to ID him with his dental records, there would be nothing left.</p><p>“We’ll find the guy that did this to you, and we’ll find your body.  We’ll get closure for you and your family,” Conan promised.  “Between my brother and I, and with your help, we’ll solve your case.  I promise.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Gavin frowned, shooting Conan an annoyed look as he continued to play with the hair behind his ears. </p><p>“I know how to question a victim, asshole. You and your brother aren’t the only detectives here,” Gavin reminded him, nettled, but too loose from his orgasm to get properly pissed off about it. Gavin leaned over him and pressed a kiss to Conan’s mouth, nipping at his bottom lip before pushing up into a sit. He gave Conan’s head a somewhat playful, albeit annoyed shove into the pillows, and groaned as he slipped out of bed and stretched his back. </p><p>“You said my clothes just disappeared?” Gavin asked as he wandered towards the bedroom door, making his way back towards the livingroom and swearing when, indeed, his clothes were nowhere to be found. He had no idea how he was going to get them back, and hoped that imagining them back on would work as well. </p><p>While he was out of eyeshot, Gavin wiped his own come off his stomach and tried to clean himself up a little, which wasn’t easy with nothing to actually wipe his hands on. He wanted a hot shower, but he knew it wouldn’t do anything, and so he made his way back into the bedroom and trailed his way around to Conan’s side of the bed. </p><p>“Thanks for taking this case on, baby. I’m lucky the only man who can see me is a detective, huh?” Gavin drawled, running his hand down the inside of Conan’s thigh. He ran his hand up Conan’s body, his eyes lowered as he watched where his own hand was going. Gavin smiled as he traced the hickeys he’d left, brushing his thumb over them, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips. He sighed into it, slipping his hand into Conan’s hair, and moaned softly as he pressed it deeper. His eyes closed, his mouth opening as he licked into Conan’s mouth, making the kiss hot and heavy. He bit at Conan’s lips as he caught his breath, kissing him again, and moaning as he pushed for more. Gavin’s mouth slid down, and he bit a fresh hickey right on the underside of his jaw where his stupid turtleneck sweater couldn’t hide it. He made the hickey dark and obvious. He wanted people to know Conan had been fucked, and he liked the idea of him thinking about Gavin every time he glanced in the mirror. </p><p>A little out of breath, Gavin huffed a laugh into Conan’s ear, and kissed the shell of it. </p><p>“Thanks for a fun night, sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck your face next time i see you.”</p><p>And with those as his parting words, Gavin gave Conan’s thigh a firm pat goodbye, and nipped at his ear as he stood up. He trailed his hands off of Conan as he straightened, and shifted his weight, disappearing as he once again found himself in Elijah’s grey and black house. And while his departure from Conan was smooth, Gavin found himself spending the rest of the night with a yowling cat at his heels as he struggled to figure out how to redress himself, only managing to do it in the early hours of the morning. </p><p>Exhausted and happy - <em> actually </em> happy - for the first time since dying, Gavin watched the run rise through Elijah’s windows as he sprawled out on the couch, scratching and playing with Prince’s ears as she obnoxiously purred beside him. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Conan swatted at Gavin’s hand when he was pushed into the pillows, scooting up to lean back against the headboard, not quite sitting up, but not quite laying down either.  “I know, I know,” he replied, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to make an attempt to clean up the bed after Gavin left the room.  “Yeah, I think so.  You took them off and they just disappeared after you let them go.”</p><p>He tossed the tissue into a trash bin and relaxed back against the headboard with a sigh.  The sheets were probably going to need to be changed, but it could wait until morning.  He was tired, he just wanted to locate his phone and crawl back into bed for the night.  He’d worry about changing the sheets and showering in the morning.  He needed to call Connor and ask him for help with Gavin’s case anyway.  He just had to find the will to get up to go get his phone from his pants pocket.</p><p>When Gavin came back in, Conan smiled, watching Gavin’s hand trace over the marks he left behind.  “No problem.  You wouldn’t be the first I’ve helped.  I just hope we’re able to find the guy.  It’s kind of a needle in a haystack situation, but I’m <em> hoping </em> maybe we’ll be able to narrow the list a little with the info you got me today,” he said, reaching up to cup the side of his face, his fingers playing with the short hairs just behind his ear.  He returned his kiss, moaning softly into it.  He slid his hand up into Gavin’s hair, curling his fingers into it and giving a tug when he needed to break away for air.  Despite being as tired as he was, he could have easily spent all night kissing him, if he felt like staying around.  But he didn’t blame him for wanting to spend some time with his cat and maybe his brother, so he didn’t try to convince him to stay.</p><p>He tipped his head back as Gavin moved to leave another hickey, making an effort to give him a little more space to work with.  He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hide that one easily.  The others were easy enough to hide with his turtleneck, but this one was going to be seen whether he wanted it to be or not.</p><p>“I’ll see you later,” Conan said as Gavin started to pull away.  “Good luck finding your clothes.”</p><p>As Gavin pulled away, Conan let go and let his arm fall back onto the bed beside him.  Once Gavin was gone, he finally convinced himself to get up, heading into the living room to grab his phone out of his pants pocket.  He checked that the door and windows were locked and that everything was off before heading back to bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! A comment would make our hearts warm &lt;3</p><p>This chapter was SO fucking long because Cadi and I do this annoying thing when we rp where we'll write two scenes simultaneously. So i'm sorry if it was a little confusing reading two POV each at the start there, i did what i could haha. </p><p>Next chapter, Gavin meets Connor, Connor judges Conan for fucking a ghost and grows concerned about the nature of their relationship. Gavin relays and focuses on the information he found the night before, and does not handle some bad news very well. </p><p>You can find us on twitter:<br/>Jess/naRK800 - @MutualTrust2038<br/>Cadi/ElijahKamski - @ekamski__</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski<br/>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We Don't Stand A Ghost Of A Chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connor indirectly meets Gavin and strikes an intervention. Gavin learns how long he's been dead, and while hopeless, makes a breakthrough in the case.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome to chapter 3! Will i run out of ghost jokes for the chapter titles? Only time will tell</p><p>Warnings for this chapter:<br/>- Gavin's dirty mouth as usual<br/>- A little bit of a gory blood nose, but it's brief</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski</p><p>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing Connor did when he woke up was check his phone, and then open his messages to Conan. He was wide awake, which never happened - he usually needed a coffee to be able to function in the mornings. </span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b><span>  Conan</span><span><br/>
</span><b>FROM:</b><span>  Connor</span><span><br/>
</span><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> <span>When is the earliest I can see you today? </span></p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time since moving in and away from Connor, Conan managed to sleep a solid eight hours.  His alarm woke him up the next morning, blaring on his bedside table until he woke up enough to reach over and silence it.  With a groan, he sat up to look at his phone, seeing a notification from Connor.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>TO:</b><span>  Connor</span><span><br/>
</span><b>FROM:</b><span>  Conan</span><span><br/>
</span><b>MESSAGE:</b><b><br/>
</b> <span>I’m free all day, want to come over for breakfast?  Just give me some time to get in the shower first.</span></p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Conan put his phone down and got up, wandering into the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower.  He paused at the mirror and stared at all of the hickeys left behind.  There was no way he was hiding at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them from Connor.  He groaned and turned on the shower, letting it heat up while he brushed his teeth.  He didn’t take his time in the shower, just washing himself clean, rinsing off, and getting back out.  He threw on a pair of underwear, jeans, and a turtleneck to try to hide the hickeys, grabbed his phone, and finally made his way into the kitchen to put on some coffee and start breakfast.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor was already in a coffee shop by the time he got Conan’s message. He hadn’t ordered yet, and so he picked one up for him as well, letting Conan know that he was bringing coffee as he waited for them to be made and called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only 7:00. Connor knew that was too early to politely text anyone, but it didn’t stop Connor from rereading his messages from Elijah the night before. Every time Connor thought about him, he got that breathless feeling back. He just wanted to call him, hear Elijah’s voice, and talk about anything and everything. He was so interesting. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood</span>
  </em>
  <span> Connor. And Connor suspected he was more than a little bit smarter than Connor was - something Connor found </span>
  <em>
    <span>endlessly</span>
  </em>
  <span> attractive. Elijah was handsome, too, but honestly, his appearance was the very last tier of things Connor cared about. It was more like an added bonus, if anything - the cherry on top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor knocked on Conan’s front door when he arrived, sipping his coffee as he held his keys and Conan’s cup in his other hand. Connor handed him the cup and let himself in when the door opened, covering his mouth as he yawned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was up until 2am running because i couldn’t get to-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>did you get fucked last night?!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Connor cut over himself, having finally looked up at Conan. He looked shocked, and didn’t bother hiding it, hooking a finger in Conan’s high collar and pulling it down, revealing the scattered trail of hickeys painted over Conan’s pale skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you find the time to meet anyone? Why didn’t you mention anything?” Connor asked, not angry or annoyed but simply surprised and curious. He then shifted, and raised his eyebrows at Conan. “Were you holding back because we lived together? Conan, you know i would never have minded if you kicked me out for a few hours. I don’t care if you hook up with people, you didn’t have to wait to move out…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Conan heard the knock on his door, he’d already finished cooking breakfast and served it out on two plates at the dining table.  He made a few pancakes each and some eggs and toast, and set out glasses of orange juice too.  He made his way over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open to let Connor inside.  He happily accepted his coffee with a “thanks,” closing and locking the door behind him as he took a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was about to lead Connor into the dining room, but Connor’s shock stopped him.  His face started to burn red when Connor pulled his collar down.  He swatted his hand away, readjusting his collar.  He had no idea how to even begin to explain what happened.  It was new territory for him, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Connor was going to judge him for it.  It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He could easily admit it, it was definitely weird, he knew it was, he wouldn’t blame Connor for judging him, if he was being honest with himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh…  I wasn’t holding back, I just…  I wasn’t interested in anyone, really.  I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> hookups.  I wasn’t holding back before, this just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Conan said, leading him into the dining room.  He sat down at one of the place settings and set down his coffee after another sip.  “Last night was really… </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  You’re going to think I’m crazy.  Do you remember the ghost I was telling you about?  Kamski’s brother?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor followed after his brother, lipping at the lid of his cup as his eyes bored holes into his back. He didn’t think </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> could have distracted him from his conversation with Elijah, and he didn’t think anything could have put a lid on him gushing about it. But Conan proved him wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Growing up, Conan had been a lot like Connor - never really clicking with people, never really wanting to spend time with other people. He was a lot more normal than Connor was, and fit into groups a lot more easily. But more or less, the two of them were the same. Neither of them really did hookups. So why had Conan made an exception? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor took a sip when Conan started to explain, and there was, indeed, a very pointed look on Connor’s face as Conan said that his night was weird, and then immediately mentioned the ghost he could see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor’s gaze flicked down to their breakfast, his lips twitching as he tried not to smile. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and then looked back up at his mortified brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have sex with a ghost, Conan?” Connor asked diplomatically, his lips twitching as he once again tried to hold back a smile. “Please tell me you’re joking.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Conan replied, completely unable to look Connor in the eye.  “I swear, I’m not joking.  I know what it sounds like.”  He knew it sounded crazy, but he couldn’t explain away the marks on his neck.  It absolutely had happened, he knew it did, he just had to convince Connor, who seemed far too amused, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last night, Gavin showed up here, covered in blood from head to toe, throat slit and gutted.  He was panicking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was panicking, and after he went back to normal, we were both shaken up, he was so upset, and…  I reached out to touch him, even though I expected my hand to just go through him like it does with all the other ghosts I’ve met, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>it didn’t,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he explained, some of that fear he’d felt last night creeping back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why or how, but it didn’t.  We could touch each other, and…  You know, one thing led to another and…”  He motioned to his neck before letting his hands fall back into his lap with a small shrug.  “It’s never happened to me before.  The ghost touching thing, I mean.  None of them have ever been able to touch me, and I don’t know why.  I don’t know what makes him so special, or if it’s even </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  It could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s changed, maybe something’s changed and all ghosts can touch me now, I don’t know.  It’s exciting, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrifying</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  I don’t know what else he can do to me.  Not that he’d do anything malicious, I trust him enough, but…  If it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if others can touch me too, they might not be so nice…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor couldn’t hold back his grin when Conan finally admitted to it. It was very funny, at least in Connor’s opinion. Usually, Conan couldn’t touch the ghosts he saw. It was hilarious that the first thing he did when he finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch one was immediately have sex with them. There were, of course, things to be worried about. The mental health repercussions if Conan started to develop actual feelings was concerning, for starters.  They also had no idea what being exposed to the dead like that would do to him - there were zero scientific studies about what Conan could do, which meant there was no research surrounding any of it. Connor was also worried about what could happen if the ghost was scorned. If they could leave bruises, even if they were bruises Conan liked, what else could they do to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But those worries were something Connor pushed aside as he allowed himself to laugh at how </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Conan was. It was laughter he cut short when Conan began talking about slit throats and guttings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His throat was slit and he was gutted?” Connor asked, picking up his fork and starting to pick at his breakfast. “Was he able to give you any more information before--” Connor gestured at Conan’s neck-- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>mauling</span>
  </em>
  <span> you? A description of the perpetrator, anything useful at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor loaded up his fork with pancakes and bacon, and chewed as he looked around for Conan’s laptop. He stood up to get it, not asking permission as he used it to log into the DPD intranet again and sign into his terminal. He made two searches for guttings and slit throats, and sipped on his coffee as he quickly scanned through the results that came up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s you who has changed then you obviously need to be careful. I wouldn’t advertise to the next ghost you see that you can touch them. You might have enjoyed the sexual attention this time, but you won’t always appreciate it,” Connor said vaguely, concentrating on the screen. “Enjoy the sex while you have it, but be careful not to form any attachments. Gavin will move on once we solve the case, arrest the perpetrator, and put his body to rest at a cemetary. Don’t catch any feelings, Conan, you’ll just make your life hard,” Connor warned, glancing up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Connor clicked his tongue and got up, turning the screen so Conan could see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost everyone gutted in the past two years has already had their cases solved, it isn’t common. Slit throats, on the other hand, seem to be quite popular in Detroit. Even with the victim literally showing you how he died, it seems it won’t be an easy case to solve,” Connor said, although he didn’t sound particularly upset by that. He did enjoy a challenge. “Next time Gavin comes over, try to get something useful out of him before jumping his bones, please. How does sex with a ghost work, anyway? I thought they couldn’t touch things - how did you actually fuck?” Connor asked curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan rolled his eyes when Connor started laughing, picking up his knife and fork to cut himself a piece of his pancakes, stabbing it with a fork a little grumpily.  He let Connor laugh and ask his questions while he chewed his food, giving him a one shouldered shrug.  “He knows the guy’s Russian, lives in a big red brick mansion with cages in the basement, and he has an android.  Thinks he’s buried in the backyard somewhere, and we know how he died,” Conan listed off, picking up another forkful.  “It was nightmare fuel, Connor.  I’ve seen some gruesome shit, but this…  His insides were </span>
  <em>
    <span>on my floor.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He decided to leave it there, at least while they were eating.  He had a strong stomach, not much really got to him, and thinking back on it, he wasn’t that bothered by it, even if it was terrifying to think of, knowing that it had happened to someone he cared about, at least a little.  “I have a plan.  It might take a couple weeks, but I’m gonna search through the public records, see if I can find any Russian surnames owning mansions in Detroit.  Take that list, call each one posing as a CyberLife technician calling for a maintenance check up for their android, and anyone who sounds believable enough when they claim they don’t have one gets crossed off the list.  Gavin can come with me house to house, let me know if he sees anything familiar, and hopefully we find the right one eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor was right, advertising that he was able to touch ghosts now, whether it was just a Gavin thing or a Conan thing, wasn’t a good idea.  It needed to be something that stayed between the three of them, no one else had to know about it.  He knew catching feelings for Gavin wouldn’t be a good idea either.  He was going to move on sooner or later, and when he did, Conan would be alone again.  His company made living alone bearable.  Once he moved on and he was alone, Conan knew he’d get lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, eating his breakfast while he watched Connor on his laptop.  He scooted closer to see the screen when Connor turned it towards him, looking over the results.  None of them were very helpful.  The guttings being solved meant that the killer likely wasn’t the same one that got Gavin, and the slit throats were so common that it probably wouldn’t lead anywhere.  He sighed again and leaned back in his seat, picking at his breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said he was gonna wait until daytime to go back, so I might have some news tonight, we’ll see,” he said with a shrug, looking down at his plate.  “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch things.  He was really cold, and the touch felt different compared to a live human touching another live human.  I don’t really know how to describe it.  I guess…  Just imagine what it would feel like to be touched by a ghost, I don’t know.  We couldn’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuck, lube doesn’t work, at least not on him.  He can’t use it, and I can’t use it on him, so…  We couldn’t.  We just…  Didn’t you start saying something when you got here?  About going for a run?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor’s eyebrows knitted together, and he loaded up his fork with more food as he stared over at Conan. Knowing the perpetrator was Russian helped a lot, and knowing he was in a red brick mansion could help them narrow that down further, especially if Connor could find out the date that style of mansion was fashionable to build. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cages in the basement?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Connor echoed, looking concerned. “Tell him to look in the cages. There may be people inside. Is there any way he could possibly communicate with them?” Connor asked a little urgently, shifting unhappily in his seat. He knew the answer was ‘no’, only people like Conan could communicate with the dead. But he asked anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m curious as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was killed so gruesomely. Were his organs being sold? Was the killer experimenting? And why risk killing a police officer - they usually document where they’re going. Which also leads us to why </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gavin document his whereabouts? Where is his car? If his car was sold, then to who? There should be a paper trail but unless the detectives assigned to his case were complete morons, there wasn’t one. Why was Gavin at this man’s house? And why did he decide to kill Gavin? He needs to tell you the answers to these questions and if he doesn’t know them, he needs to investigate. We can only do so much with the scraps that we have. As a detective, he should know better,” Connor finished, sounding a little annoyed with Gavin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor put another forkful of food into his mouth, and then kicked Conan under the table when he explained his plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare go into that house without backup, Conan,” Connor warned, his expression serious. “I mean it. I can’t lose you to a Russian who cuts open police officers, slits their throats, and buries them in shallow graves. Promise me you won’t investigate the house by yourself.” Connor gave his warning some time to breathe, and then added, “But otherwise, it’s a good idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Conan began to explain how his romp with Gavin actually worked, Connor kept a straight face for the most part. Only when Conan began getting embarrassed and flustered did Connor start to smile, which ended in a grin and him laughing when Conan abruptly changed the subject. Connor wasn’t shy about it, likely because the subject wasn’t about </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he was curious as to why they could touch each other, but the line was drawn at lube. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you try saliva? Obviously, trying to fuck with just spit is a rookie mistake, but i’m curious where the line of contact actually ends. What about come? Did it get on you or go through you?” Connor asked through a grin, partially because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> genuinely curious, but mostly to make Conan squirm. As if he wasn’t going to take the opportunity to tease his brother and make him want to die a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my story’s boring compared to ghost sex,” Connor laughed, nudging Conan under the table again and lightly kicking him. “I was up all night texting Elijah, and he’s perfect. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Conan, i’ve never talked to anyone like him before,” Connor blurted, trying his best not to gush. “I had to go for a two-hour run just to fall asleep. Everytime i think about him I have problems breathing. I feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but in a good way. I’m seeing him on Thursday and I'm consumed by it. Thursday is all I can think about. I just want to talk to him,” Connor finished, rubbing a hand over his face as the other hand loaded up his fork again. “I’m also oddly nervous. I’m feeling… </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What if he turns out to be a horrible person? What if i’ve read the situation incorrectly? We’ve only had one conversation and i already feel so invested...”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan shook his head, although he knew Connor already knew the answer.  “Unless one of them is like me or there’s some kind of electronics in there he can draw energy from or manipulate, no, he can’t,” he answered, though it wasn’t really news.  They knew there was no way for ghosts to communicate with the other side, not without a lot of energy and something they could manipulate, and even then, finding a way to communicate in a way the person could understand wasn’t always easy.  “His best bet is to find other ghosts, if there are any, and find out who they are so we can make a victim pool and try to map out where they lived and worked so we can find the killer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know the answers to any of Connor’s questions, and honestly, he wasn’t sure Gavin knew either.  There seemed to be a lot he wasn’t aware of, but Conan hoped maybe he’d have some answers for him when he saw him later.  He pulled his laptop over closer to himself and opened up the file he had for Gavin’s case so far and quickly wrote down bulleted notes with questions to ask Gavin, all of the same questions that Connor asked.  Whenever Gavin showed up later, he’d ask him everything and hopefully get some solid answers to help progress the case, or at least shed some light on </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> things turned out the way they did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ask him when I see him later,” Conan assured, pushing the laptop away when he was done, returning to his pancakes.  When Connor kicked him under the table, he retaliated by kicking back.  “Promise me </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> won’t go investigate it by yourself either.”  He knew how he was.  If either of them found the location first, they were bound to get themselves in trouble, whether they were investigating together or separate.  It happened often enough.  It was a valid concern though.  He wouldn’t go in alone.  He’d wait until he had backup, or let the police handle it entirely, as long as he knew Connor was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t go in by myself.  If I find the right place, I’ll call you and wait for backup.  I promise,” he said, taking another bite of his pancakes.  He knew better than to argue with Connor about it.  He wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t going to go in there by himself.  He’d wait until Connor showed up with the police, he’d only go in if he knew someone was in immediate danger, and even then, he wasn’t going in unarmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the topic rounded back to his time with Gavin the night before, Conan rolled his eyes again.  “No, but I doubt it’d work.  I don’t know.  I don’t know anything about this, I don’t know what works and what doesn’t, we didn’t really bother experimenting,” he replied, shoving a forkful of pancakes in his mouth and mumbling,  “Apparently it just goes through him like he isn’t even there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan was relieved when Connor finally started talking about himself.  He wasn’t sure his story could really top what Conan had been through but he was surprised to hear that Connor was texting with Elijah.  His eyebrows rose and he finally looked over at him, surprised.  “Really?  I’m glad you two get along so well.  Does he know that you know about him and Gavin?” he asked, now that it was his turn to be overly curious.  “What’s he like?  I only got to talk to him for a few minutes, he didn’t say much.  I can’t imagine he’d turn out to be horrible if you managed to talk to him all night.  You’re pretty good at judging people, just go with what your gut tells you.  What do you have planned for Thursday?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor sighed in relief, and after a pause, gave a nod of his head as he looked down at his plate. “I promise,” he muttered, and despite himself, Connor meant it. There was a difference between taking risks to advance the case, and walking in the footsteps of their victim. He wasn’t going into that house alone. Connor assumed that if Gavin was Elijah’s brother, he couldn’t be completely stupid. He had to give him the benefit of the doubt that his demise couldn’t have been one that was easily avoided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate in silence for a little while, with Connor checking the time to make sure he wasn’t late for work. Not that it would matter much if he was, Hank likely wouldn’t be in before noon, but he didn’t want to get a reprimand in his first week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted out a laugh when Conan blustered over his explanation of what happened when they came, deeply enjoying how </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Conan was. Connor grinned around his mouthful of food, but kept his mouth shut about it when the conversation properly shifted to Elijah - a topic he could talk about for days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Connor said, sipping his coffee. “We spoke mostly about androids. I told him about my time in the CyberLife academy and camps, we spoke about Chloe - who he still has, by the way - we spoke about ethics, science, our date on Thursday. I told him about you, and explained our childhood. He mentioned Gavin a few times, but… I didn’t comment. I’m not supposed to know that Gavin is dead, and he didn’t bring it up. I’m testing the waters to see how he’ll react to your ability to speak to the dead, but i’d rather not keep it a secret, if i’m honest. Unless you want me to,” Connor added, putting down his fork and leaning back in his chair. He sighed and looked over at Conan with a hopeless expression in his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Conan. We just click. We agree on almost everything, and so much of his experience reminds me of us,” Connor tried to explain. “But he’s also incredibly alone. I asked him about his fears, and he told me without really saying it that losing Gavin meant realising and living through his worst fear. He’s misunderstood, the same way we often are. I find him to be incredibly relatable. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to open up to him, and I never want to open up to anyone. I’ve never felt a connection like this with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan was more than happy to let the conversation shift over to Connor and Elijah and away from sex with a ghost.  He wanted to hear all about Connor’s conversation with him.  It was rare that Connor found someone he actually liked to talk to that </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> Conan.  They had very few friends, they never needed any.  They always had each other.  Connor never got this excited over someone new.  Conan was happy for him, he needed to find someone else to talk to and spend time with, even if the realization that Connor might have a friend made Conan the tiniest bit jealous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Connor mentioned possibly telling Elijah about Conan’s ability, Conan sighed and shook his head.  “It’s not a good idea, Connor.  He’ll think you’re crazy.  Or he’ll think </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> crazy.  He’s a man of science, he won’t believe it,” he said with a frown.  “Don’t risk what you have with him.  I’ve never seen you this happy over someone, don’t mess it up by telling him about your weird brother that claims he can see the dead.  If I need anything from him, I have his number, I can call him again myself and tell him everything if I need to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Listening to Connor go on about Elijah made Conan smile, small and maybe a little longing.  He definitely didn’t want Connor to mess this up.  Their entire lives, Connor had only cared about Conan, school, his career, and his interests.  Most people didn’t fit, they rarely had friends, they were different and didn’t fit in with everyone else.  Connor never really seemed to care, they were both so much smarter than their peers.  But now, Connor found someone who was smarter than them, someone with the same interests, someone who seemed interested in getting to know him, and Conan really didn’t want Connor to ruin it by telling Elijah about him.  If he was the reason Connor missed out on something special with someone he liked so much, Conan would never forgive himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like you really like him, Connor,” Conan pointed out, sitting back in his chair.  “I think you should just go with it.  Embrace it, let yourself be happy.  Maybe once you get to know him better, you can bring it up, but I don’t think it’s a good idea right now, or anytime soon…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor’s brow furrowed when Conan urged Connor not to tell Elijah about his ability to speak to the dead. Connor didn’t agree, and he hated the language Conan was using to describe himself. He didn’t agree with that, either. Crossing his arms, Connor pulled in a deep breath and shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t weird, Conan. Your ability is just unresearched. You are scientifically unique, and your ability to see the dead means there is an entire field of science that hasn’t been explored. The fact that you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> them now only raises more questions about what happens after death,” Connor said hotly in Conan’s defence. “If Elijah is </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly</span>
  </em>
  <span> a man of science, he’ll see it from my point of view. I’m not interested in being with someone who doesn’t take you seriously, Conan. Seeing ghosts is a huge part of your existence and identity. I don’t want to keep that a secret forever. You won’t be pushed to one side while I'm in the room. I’ll tell him, i just have to build up to it first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor let himself simmer down and lapsed into silence, reaching for his coffee and sipping it as he looked over at him. He gave a sigh and nodded his head, his face tilted down as he fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. I’ve never felt such a strong connection to someone so quickly before,” Connor said, unafraid to admit it. “I’ll be very disappointed if he turns out to be an ass, honestly. I’ve never been so excited just to talk to someone…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up at Conan, he sighed again and took a sip of his coffee, tapping his phone to check the time again. They still had enough for Connor to finish his coffee before leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is Gavin like? Last I heard, he had a dirty mouth and a wandering eye. Obviously </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gavin</span>
  </em>
  <span> got what he wanted, but what about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan sighed and shook his head.  He still disagreed.  “Connor, imagine this.  You’re the richest man in the world.  I disappear suddenly and mysteriously and I”m presumed dead, leaving you with no closure.  Tell me honestly, if I died and someone came to you claiming to be able to see and talk to me, would you believe them?  Or would you think they’re just lying to you to get your money?” he asked, still frowning.  “Sure, what I can do is a mystery and there aren’t any studies done on it or scientific research or anything, and if this wasn’t so close to home, maybe he’d be interested, but this is his brother we’re talking about.  He’s not going to believe us, and I don’t want you to throw this away because of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked hearing Connor talk about Elijah.  It was so clear that he liked him, a lot.  He never knew Connor to talk about someone the way he was, Connor was always very closed off, just like Conan.  They didn’t talk to other people, and they surely didn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited</span>
  </em>
  <span> to talk to other people.  Conan was a little more social than Connor, but even then, they rarely talked to anyone.  He liked seeing how happy Connor was about this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be disappointed too.  It’s nice to see you so excited to talk to someone else,” he said, giving him a small smile.  He picked up his coffee to take a sip, sighing as he tried to think of how to even describe Gavin.  “Gavin is…  He’s still like that, but he’s a lot more subtle about it now that he knows I can see and hear him.  He’s easy to talk to and he’s mostly nice, but he’s a little rough around the edges.  I haven’t had the chance to spend too much time with him, we mostly talk about the case, so…  I don’t know much about him, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor looked down at his hands with an unhappy expression on his face, clearly trying to find some kind of counter argument. He knew Conan was right, but he also hated the idea of putting his feelings for someone else before Conan. They were a team, all they had was each other. But Conan was right, it would never go over well with Elijah, and Connor couldn’t find a middle ground. He was clearly unhappy about it, and he didn’t agree - but Connor’s lack of </span>
  <em>
    <span>disagreement</span>
  </em>
  <span> was, in itself, it’s own kind of surrender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor didn’t say anything else, almost sulking as he sipped on his coffee. He was the only person who didn’t doubt Conan, the only person who completely accepted what he could do and see. He would never let Conan feel pushed aside because of it. They were all each other had. But he was also right about Elijah, and he was right about everything else, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you slept with him. What’s the appeal if you don’t know anything about him?” Connor asked. “Do you regret it? It’s not too late to draw a boundary if you do,” Connor reminded him. “It’s okay to withdraw affection if you change your mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite how unhappy Connor seemed to be about it, Conan was glad he didn’t argue any further.  Connor wasn’t going to be able to change his mind.  Elijah wouldn’t be able to understand.  He wouldn’t believe him, not without some kind of undeniable proof, and even then, he’d had some people turn against him, even after he told them things only their loved ones could know.  He didn’t want to risk Elijah turning his back on Connor because Conan was trying to tell him about Gavin.  Connor deserved happiness, and if Elijah made him happy, Conan refused to let himself come between them.  He’d find a way to tell Elijah eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan sighed and gave a small shrug of his shoulders, looking down at his coffee in his hand.  “I don’t regret it.  I don’t…  I don’t want to put a stop to it,” he admitted.  Physical contact was something he lacked severely.  He worked alone, he didn’t have any employees to do any of the work for him, he didn’t have any friends in Detroit.  He only had a few friends back in Chicago, and he rarely spent time with them or talked to them.  Up until now, touching ghosts was impossible.  He had no family other than Connor.  Any physical contact he got came from Connor, and it wasn’t very common.  He was touch starved, and finally having Gavin, knowing that he can be touched and touch in return, made him feel at ease, even if the whole of ghosts being able to touch him now terrified him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not… a typical one night stand.  There’s something different about him.  I feel closer to him than I usually do with other cases I take on, this one is just different.  I don’t know what it is about him that draws me to him.  I don’t know how to explain it,” he tried to explain, frowning again.  He sighed, setting his coffee back down.  “I know you have to leave soon, but stick around for a minute, there’s something I need from you, I just have to find something first, hang on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got up, picking up their empty plates and bringing them to the kitchen to drop off in the sink before heading back into the bedroom.  He dug through a couple boxes, searching until he finally found a flash drive.  He slipped it into his pocket before turning to the bed, stripping it down quickly and bringing it all into the laundry room to throw into the wash on his way back towards the living room.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor frowned at Conan’s explanation, trying not to let it seem obvious that he wasn’t happy about it. Getting attached to a ghost was a really bad idea. They weren’t going to stick around. Connor knew Conan got lonely, and that he found it hard to reach out to people. But he didn’t think turning to ghosts was a good idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded when Conan excused himself, picking up his phone to check it and once again read back through his messages with Elijah. He didn’t notice the shift in the room when Gavin arrived, or when Gavin made his way over to the table. Unlike his brother, Connor couldn’t detect the dead at all, not even a little bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, asshole. Your brother here for breakfast?” Gavin asked, a teasing smile on his face that matched the teasing lilt of his voice. “Where the fuck are all your hickeys? Must fade faster ‘cause of me being a ghost or something,” Gavin leaned in closer, grinning wider at the way he was being completely ignored. “Just means i’ll have to leave more, doesn’t it?” he asked, his eyes lidded as he watched his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was being ignored just like he had been that first day, but Gavin knew Conan could hear him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know two can play at this game, sweetheart. You were pretty damn loud last night. How quiet are you gonna be when I start painting hickeys up the inside of your thighs? We were pretty vanilla last night, maybe i’ll eat your ass out in this chair and see if he notices you squirm--?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor put his phone down and covered his mouth as he let out a long, and very wide yawn. He sniffed and took out a quarter, idly playing with it as he waited for Conan to get back. He walked it over his knuckles and then used the muscles in his palm to throw the coin up, tricking the eye into thinking he had levitated it. In the end, he flicked it like a spinning top on the surface of Conan’s table, using his middle finger to try and halt it so heads was facing him each time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin watched him, looking pissed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit this shit. If you don’t want me going down on you stop being a pussy and fucking say so,” Gavin snapped at him, clicking his fingers in front of Connor’s face. “Conan!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan never knew when to expect Gavin to come back.  He knew to expect him back sometime that day, but he didn’t know when, exactly.  He knew Gavin had mentioned wanting to go back to that mansion during the day, so he figured he’d likely show up later that day.  He surely hadn’t expected him to show up while Connor was over.  He also didn’t expect to overhear everything Gavin was saying from just the room over, clearly mistaking Connor for him.  It wouldn’t be the first time someone got them mixed up.  They looked the same to strangers.  Anyone who looked close enough would notice their differences.  He couldn’t hold it against Gavin, he’d only seen Conan so far, and he doubted Gavin knew Connor was his twin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked back into the dining room and over to the table, trying to keep his face straight and keep himself from laughing, with the slightest red tint to his cheeks.  He knew Connor couldn’t hear Gavin, everything he said was just between them, but it was easy to forget sometimes.  “That’s Connor,” he stated as he sat down at his seat again.  “Welcome back, Gavin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Setting the flash drive down on the table, Conan slid it over to Connor.  “Could you put any info you can find about Gavin on this for me?  He worked at Central, there’s gotta be some info you can dig up,” he said.  “Maybe there’s a lead or two in his history somewhere, I don’t know.”  He hoped that with that info and with what Gavin might tell him, they might be able to gather enough information to find at least a few things out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gavin, this is my brother, Connor,” he introduced, now that he had the flash drive out of the way.  “Connor, Gavin’s here.  He thought you were me.  He was saying some…  things, to you.”  It was hard to keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth threatening to upturn into a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When there was movement on the other side of the room, Gavin glanced up - only to double take and stagger a step backwards, his eyes glued to the hickey he could see on the underside of Conan’s jaw. Gavin’s mouth parted, and he looked down at Connor, who was still ignoring him, as realisation hit him like a truck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why the fuck didn’t you mention you were twins!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gavin yelled, stepping back another pace. “Never thought to bring that up, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking asshole?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin was furious, with colour burning high on his cheekbones and in his ears. Connor, meanwhile, simply looked around curiously, before accepting the thumb drive and slipping it into his pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Connor said. “Gavin, can you tell Conan your surname, please? It’ll make things much easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’ll make things much easier’”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gavin mocked “Fuck you. It’s Reed. I hope you get fuckin’ blue balls tonight, Conan, i can’t fucking believe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of things…?” Connor asked, his curiosity turning into wariness as he spoke over the top of Gavin without meaning to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you tell him--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell Gavin that i’m not interested in having any kind of strange ghost sex with him…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Argh jesus fucking Christ! Fuck you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan sighed and tried not to roll his eyes, despite still being amused.  “I didn’t think it was relevant.  Besides, after how much time we spent face to face last night, I figured you’d have realized my eyes are blue, and his are brown,” he pointed out, sitting back in his chair.  He looked over to Connor once Gavin gave him his answer.  “It’s Reed.  I can look up some things on my own from here, but I just need all the info only the police have access to.  Any info on his most recent case files and unsolved cases would help too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As for what Gavin had been saying…  Conan </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> roll his eyes when Connor said to tell him he wasn’t having sex with him.  “That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he was talking about, and then some.  I’m not going into detail, though, for my sake,” he replied.  It had all been directed at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Conan,</span>
  </em>
  <span> even if it was said to Connor’s face.  He wasn’t repeating what was said.  All Connor needed to know was that it was exactly what he thought it was.  He was going to spare himself the embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gavin, did you have a chance to stop by the mansion before you came here?” he asked, figuring now was a good time, since Connor was still there.  “I have a few things to ask you but we can go over all that later, Connor has to go to work soon.  Can you think of anything to tell him that you haven’t already told me?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be such a fucking smartass,” Gavin snarled at Conan, angry with him and unafraid to show it. It was an anger that stemmed from embarrassment, and Gavin paced away from the both of them, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He ended up perched on the back of the sofa, and chewed a piece of dried skin on his thumb as Conan explained everything to Connor. Gavin was tempted to just leave, and came very close to it as Conan told Connor what he’d said without actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>telling</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. He exhaled, and didn’t look at either of them, until Conan spoke to him directly again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, i’ve been there since sunrise,” Gavin snapped, but he was calming down, and thinking about the things he uncovered helped a lot. “I looked in those cages I told you about. I thought they’d be full of bodies or people, or at least animals, but they’re full of androids. Fucked up, mutilated androids that’ve been taken apart and put back together all wrong. He’s done something to their code that makes them cry and whimper and comfort one another, it’s fucked up, man,” Gavin said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “My car is in his garage, but it’s covered in this thick layer of dust and grime, way more than it should have for just a couple weeks. My car’s a piece of shit, it doesn’t have a tracker cause i bought it when i lived with Eli. Didn’t want him knowing where I went back then, so don’t bother trying to trace the car.” Gavin shrugged, and looked down at the floor as a haunted, distressed expression came over him. Being in that house was hard. He was terrified the entire time, and no amount of his police training helped. He didn’t want Conan to know he was scared. That looking for things through his terror was </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because he could barely think straight. He didn’t want to be a weak piece of shit, and so he swallowed and frowned, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He lives alone. There’s a, uh, TR400 android. The one that smashed my face into the flagstones. I think that one is his, but there’s-- there’s fuckin’ androids everywhere, all taken apart. Doesn’t seem to leave his house. The room where he, uh-- he, um.” Gavin huffed out a laugh and scrubbed his palms on his jeans, his jaw trembling as he stared holes into Conan’s floor. “I think he sold my organs, he… there were boxes, uh… it-- it would have been rough, i doubt anyone could have used them when they got them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin paused, trying to hide how deep his breathing had gotten. It felt like he was there again, he could see him coming towards him with the scalpel so clearly. He held his breath, digging his fingers into the couch as he tried to stop shaking. It wasn’t happening, he was safe now, and Gavin tried to tell himself that as panic gripped him by the throat. His eyebrows furrowed up, and he forced himself to keep looking down - until blood began to drip rapidly onto the floorboards by his feet. Gavin’s hand jumped to his face, his eyes wild and terrified as he realised it was smashed in again. He tried to cover it up and hide it from Conan, unable to stop the blood that poured through his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There wasn’t any evidence, no bills I could read, nothing,” Gavin keened, trying to get a grip. “I couldn’t find the-- the street, i couldn’t-- nothing, i don’t know his name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, i couldn’t-- you’re not gonna find me, you’re not-- fuck. Fuck, fuck-- jesus this is so dramatic, fuck you, god,” Gavin choked, dragging in deep breaths to try and calm down. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan wasn’t bothered by the way Gavin snapped at him.  It wasn’t the first time, and he knew it was only because he was embarrassed.  He didn’t bother commenting and instead, focused on what news Gavin had for him.  He pulled his computer over and started typing as Gavin spoke, taking notes with the screen angled so Connor could watch as he typed.  The mutilated recoded androids were concerning, but they weren’t people, at least they weren’t more murder victims.  Although, he supposed if the guy could murder and gut someone the way he did, mutilating androids wasn’t a stretch.  It was honestly a little more tame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has androids locked in those cages, mutilated and reprogrammed,” Conan repeated back for Connor’s sake.  “Any idea how many?  Maybe they’re stolen?  Androids aren’t cheap, it’s not likely that he bought all of those on his own, they’re either stolen or built entirely by him.  Could have been bought on the black market, maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was unfortunate that Gavin’s car didn’t have a tracker, but Conan had already figured that much.  Either the tracker had been broken or it didn’t have one, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>surely</span>
  </em>
  <span> the police would have checked for that in the beginning.  He’d need to find out as much as he could about the car, though.  That was information Connor would be able to get for him from the precinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see how distressed Gavin was starting to get, even if he tried to hide it.  He was observant, and he’d had plenty of time over the last couple days to observe Gavin and learn his mannerisms, how he spoke, how he held himself.  He was usually pretty confident, but he wasn’t right now.  Conan could see how he started to curl in on himself, how he avoided eye contact and trembled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan typed out the last note about the TR400 android and possible organ sales before moving the laptop over so Connor could read everything.  He watched Gavin closely, but stayed where he was sitting.  He only got up when he noticed the blood start to drip onto the floor.  He got up and walked over, going slow so he didn’t spook him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to touch his arm.  “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  We’ll find you.  I have a plan.  That was plenty, it’ll help.  Just try to breathe.  You’re safe here, he can’t hurt you anymore.  Just breathe, and focus on me.  You’re here, in my apartment.  Your apartment.  You can make it go away, you did it before.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connor kept a close eye on the time as Conan wrote down everything Gavin was saying. It made Connor frown with concentration, and his gaze flicked up to Conan as he occasionally dictated what had been said. It was a fascinating case, if he were being honest. Especially when Conan wrote down organ sales. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor looked up as Conan paused, watching his brother’s expression. He almost asked what was wrong, but kept his mouth shut when it became obvious that Gavin was having a bad time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin looked up at Conan when he was touched. His face was covered in blood, his lip split from teeth that were caved in, and his nose almost entirely crushed. Gavin’s eyes were full of panic, the pupils blown out and almost entirely swallowing the green of his iris with fear. The blood rushed over his lips and chin, and ran down his neck to soak his shirt collar. But he nodded his head when Conan spoke, latching onto his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin couldn’t stop shaking, but he stared up into Conan’s face. He felt small, and pathetic, like a kid who had seen the boogeyman, and he hated it. His hand slid up, trembling against Conan’s skin as he cupped his face, and he let his bloodied mouth hang open as he tried to pull in air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen,” Gavin said, his eyebrows drawing up. “I’m-- i’m here with you, being a dramatic piece of shit, i’m not-- not in that fucking house, i’m not really bleeding, i’m not-- I’m okay,” Gavin whispered, tracing his thumb over Conan’s bottom lip. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” Gavin said, clutching onto the words like a lifeline as he felt his lungs open up again. Slowly, little by little, the bleeding stopped. Gavin continued to tremble, and his eyes were still wide, but his shirt unstuck from his chest as the blood began to recede, and it wasn’t long before his face was clean and back to normal. He didn’t let go of Conan, and he didn’t stop shaking. But he could breathe again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor sat in silence, his face tilted down as he looked up at him, concerned. He didn’t know what was happening, and he knew better than to ask while it was still going on. He didn’t like this newfound intimacy Conan had with this ghost. He knew in the long term, it was only going to hurt him. And he also knew, in the pit of his stomach, that it was likely going to be a lesson Conan could only learn. Telling him wouldn’t do anything. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan reached up to comb his fingers through Gavin’s hair, combing it back out of his face before moving his hand to rest over Gavin’s against his cheek, to try to steady it.  “You’re okay,” he repeated softly, keeping his voice low for only them to hear.  “You’re not being dramatic, Gavin.  What you went through is traumatic, and you keep reliving it.  It’s okay to be scared, you just need to know that you’re not alone.  I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Gavin started to calm down, Conan kept close, kept his hands on him, and tried to help soothe him the best he could until Gavin seemed okay.  He was relieved that Gavin was able to get rid of the blood easily.  He seemed to be able to pull himself back from the edge easier too, although Conan couldn’t tell if it was because they had physical contact or if it was just because he was there to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel Connor’s eyes on him.  He knew he disapproved, he’d told him not to get too attached, but if he was being honest, he’d been attached since the second they realized they could touch.  He was more invested in this case than he was with most others.  He wanted to solve it for Gavin’s sake.  He didn’t know what he was going to do when the time came for Gavin to move on.  He didn’t know how he’d deal with it, if he’d be okay.  That was a bridge he’d cross when they came to it.  It was still a ways off anyway, the case was nowhere near solved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come sit down,” Conan murmured, taking the hand against his cheek to guide him over to the table.  He didn’t let go of his hand even after he sat back down, nudging the chair out for Gavin with his foot and keeping his foot there to hook his ankle around Gavin’s.  Even though Gavin was calmer now, Conan still didn’t want to break contact.  He looked over to Connor once he was settled back at the table again, pulling his laptop back over with his free hand.  “How soon do you have to leave for work?” he asked.  He knew it was cutting it close, he’d noticed him checking the time every now and then.  “If you have to go, I can just catch up with you later.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gavin’s eyes closed when Conan cupped his hand over Gavin’s. He needed the contact. He needed those hands in his hair. He needed this. He just wanted to sob like a baby, he felt emotionally flayed, but he refused to let himself cry. Not when he could hold it back. He gave a nod when Conan told him to sit down, and tried to act as though he were unbothered and normal - the way he would whenever a case shook him up. But he couldn’t stop shaking, and when he sat, Gavin curled in on himself, letting Conan hold his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor looked at the seat Conan pushed out for Gavin, and then looked over at his brother. And when he was asked when he needed to get to work and all but dismissed, and took a deep and unhappy breath, and rose to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m five minutes late,” Connor said, slipping his phone and his quarter back in his pocket, and holding his keys in his hands. “You and I are going out for dinner, Conan. Gavin, when you feel better, I need you to locate a piece of evidence we can use to reopen your case and access the evidence already gathered. Your brother has that information locked behind a wall of litigation,” Connor said, pushing his chair back into the table as Gavin pressed his face into his hand with a miserable, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck…”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll text you when i’ve finished work. Please email me everything you have - i’ll return the USB to you at dinner,” Connor said, making his way over to the door and letting himself out with a, “Thanks for breakfast!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Connor announced that he was going to dinner with him later, Conan’s brows rose a little before he nodded.  He was surprised, he could tell Connor had something he wanted to talk about, and he suspected he knew what it was.  He wasn’t going to argue with him about it though.  He missed spending so much time with him, so he was more than happy to go to dinner with him, even if he was going to be lectured.  He knew what Connor saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Conan replied, reluctantly letting go of Gavin’s hand to follow Connor to the door.  “Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you later.”  He locked the door after he left and came back over to the table to take Gavin’s hand again.  “We can worry about the questions later, if you want.  We could go lay on the couch and watch some TV to help you get your mind off things?” he suggested, giving Gavin’s hand a tug to pull him to his feet.  “I did make you a promise, too, if you feel up to it.  We can do whatever you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t really sure what he could do to help distract him.  He knew when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was upset, TV or sleep were usually his go-tos.  Sleep wasn’t an option for Gavin.  He didn’t know what Gavin did to relax before, but he knew what usually helped him, and some of those things weren’t exactly possible.  It was complicated, but being able to touch made things a little easier.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Conan let go of him, Gavin pulled his hand into his lap and resumed picking at that dried piece of skin. His hands were still trembling, and he balled them into fists to try and stop it. Gavin touched his face to check if he was still covered in blood, repeatedly wiping his nose and looking at his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin looked up at Conan without raising his face, letting his hand be picked up, and letting Conan tug him to his feet. It was harder to hide his shaking when Conan was touching him, and Gavin merely glowered at all his sweet suggestions, hating all of them. Gavin scowled down at his feet, but Conan would finally get a smile out of him, and then a laugh when he reminded Gavin about his promise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe later, hot lips,” Gavin muttered, stepping up into Conan’s space and reaching up, threading his hand into his hair and pulling him down into a kiss. It was like a cold balm against a fresh burn; Gavin’s racing thoughts stuttered to a halt, and he exhaled a breath of relief through his nose. Gavin moved in closer, frowning as he kissed Conan and being careful not to press it too deep so they could both breathe through it. He kept kissing him until he felt himself stop trembling. He let it wind to a stop, the both of them breathing against each other and pressed close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Gavin who stepped away first, sniffing and reaching up to thumb at his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask me the damn questions. I’m a fucking detective, not a damn citizen, you don’t need to baby me, Conan. Cut it out,” Gavin said, looking up at him. He then reached up and lightly knocked Conan’s chin with the back of his knuckles, shoving his face a little. “You’re hot as hell, baby, but if you keep talking to me like i’m not your damn superior i’m gonna kick your ass. Only one of us has a badge, asshole. Stop forgetting just because i bleed on your kitchen floor every few hours,” Gavin said, trying to trivialise how shaken up he kept getting. “Ask the questions.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan just wanted to help him feel okay again.  He couldn’t fix what happened to him.  He couldn’t make him whole again.  All he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> do was try to solve his case and help him move on.  He could try to help him a little in the meantime, though.  Gavin might not want to admit it, but he was a victim.  Sure, he was a detective, but he had been brutally murdered.  He was as much of a victim as anyone else, and it wasn’t good for him to bottle it up and pretend he was okay when he wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Conan knew better than to pry, so he left it alone.  He returned his kiss, slipping an arm around his waist to pull him flush up against him.  His other hand slid into Gavin’s hair, combing through it again before coming to rest at the back of his neck.  He let Gavin set the pace, following his lead, and really, he was grateful for the lower pace of the kiss.  If they weren’t going to have sex again just yet, he didn’t want to get riled up.  The slow pace was more relaxing, he could think, he could breathe, and he appreciated it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the kiss broke, Conan rested his forehead against Gavin’s, keeping him close.  He only let him go when Gavin moved to take a step back.  He swatted Gavin’s shoving hand away, giving him a grumbled “okay, fine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>detective,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he sat back down to pull his laptop over.  He pulled up the questions, reading over them again before speaking up.  “Have you seen any other ghosts there?  Anyone you can talk to?” he asked.  “And do you have any idea what you were investigating, or why he’d want to kill you?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gavin smirked when Conan sassed back at him, finding that he liked it, and sat back in the chair that had been pushed out for him with his legs spread. He shook his head and sighed, licking his bottom lip as he ran his hand through his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, nobody. I called out and everything, it was just me and a fuckload of androids,” Gavin said, sounding frustrated. Gavin frowned again when asked the next question, shifting in his chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird, you know? I don’t remember anything about that day. I remember being inside this big gloomy house, we were talking about something. Weren’t yelling or anything. Then the next thing I remember is my face getting smashed in, then getting dragged up a hallway and into a room, then trying to stop him coming near me with a scalpel. I was fucked up, you know, like cotton in my ears and couldn’t see straight. Probably from my face getting smashed. Then i was outside that house with all this turned over earth, which has grown over with grass and weeds and shit now,” Gavin said, drawing in a somewhat unsteady breath, but managing to get to the end without having another breakdown. “The turned earth is why I think I'm buried there. I keep finding myself in the same exact spot.” Gavin shrugged, frustrated. “Dunno what i was investigating. I can’t remember. I’m a homicide detective, though. I’m good at my job. The fact i was alone makes me think i thought this guy was a witness or a lead, not a perp. I don’t think I was suspicious, I think I was trying to get information about someone else.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conan sighed and nodded, typing up Gavin’s answers as he spoke so he could save everything and forward it all to Connor after.  No other ghosts to talk to was surprising.  The way Gavin was killed didn’t seem sloppy, it seemed planned and Conan doubted it was the killer’s first kill.  He knew what he was doing.  Someone who hadn’t killed before would be messier.  They wouldn’t make such clean cuts.  The lack of other ghosts seemed suspicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Gavin went on to recount what he remembered from that day, Conan continued to type, writing all of it down.  He had a few of his own theories forming as he listened to Gavin explain, waiting until he was finished to speak up himself, pushing his laptop aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking for info on someone else,” Conan replied.  “Maybe he’s protecting someone?  Or maybe you found out about his secrets in the basement.”  He sighed, looking back over at his screen and over the questions he had left unanswered.  They knew what was in the cages now, and there were no other ghosts to talk to.  Gavin seemed to suspect that his organs were sold, although there was no way for them to get proof of that unless Gavin managed to find a shipping label or something.  If the guy </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying to protect someone, that would explain why he killed Gavin.  The method of killing couldn’t be easily explained, but that was probably one of those things they were just going to have to ask the killer when they caught him.  Gavin was probably following a lead or something, so that answered why he was there, and Gavin knew where his car was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea why you didn’t tell anyone where you were going?  Any idea why you didn’t document any of it?” he asked.  “We don’t know that you didn’t for sure, we need to see the case files, but assuming you didn’t…  Do you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Gavin answered, letting out his own sigh and trying to think back to that day. It was like trying to remember a dream after just waking up, he could barely recall what month it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, i…” Gavin’s thoughts were elsewhere, and it took him a moment to come back to the room. “Like i said, i’m good at my job. I’m not sloppy on the paperwork, either, if i don’t wanna do it i make someone else do it. If i’m at that house and i haven’t said why, my thinking is that i’m not supposed to be there. Maybe i’ve been ordered not to go, but then that would have been written down somewhere, too. Someone would have remembered telling me no, and they would know I'm the kind of asshole to go and do it anyway. Someone would have chased that. So maybe… i dunno, maybe i didn’t want anyone knowing where i was going? Why though, I usually don’t give a shit…” Gavin muttered, his thoughts wandering off again. He was silent for a moment, his brows pinched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey… why the fuck is my case blocked?” Gavin asked. “Connor said Eli blocked it, why? There should be people out looking for me, cases don’t go cold in a few weeks. I’ve barely started decomposing,” Gavin said, angry and confused. “Why the hell would Eli block my case, when the fuck did he do that?” he asked. “I could still be alive for all they know, i could be in one of those cages if he was feeding me…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only logical explanation was that Gavin didn’t want anyone knowing where he was going or what he was up to.  Nothing else made sense.  The entire case was a mystery, one they had very little chance unraveling without his case files.  He wanted access to Gavin’s most recent case, and he wanted the files from his disappearance, the file Elijah had locked tight.  He needed it.  They had so few leads to follow.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span> the information they had was going to be enough to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> progress, but he really didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan gave a shrug of his shoulders when Gavin asked about his case.  “I have no idea.  But…  Gavin, I have to tell you something.  If that case Elijah has locked down is the one about your disappearance…  Gavin, it was opened over a year ago.  Not just a couple weeks,” he said gently with a frown.  “We don’t know for sure, we don’t know if this is your case or if it’s something of his, we don’t know when you went missing.  Connor’s going to find out today at work, hopefully, now that he has your surname.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at his laptop screen.  “I don’t know how to get that case unlocked.  I’m sure someone at the precinct can, anyone with enough pull, but…  Connor hasn’t had the easiest time so far, he’s not going to be able to convince anyone to cooperate with him, and I really doubt I can.  I don’t know what to do.it’s a tough situation.  The easiest way, probably, would be to ask Elijah directly, but I’m not ruining what Connor has with him.  He’s your brother, what should we do?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gavin grinned, his head tilting a little as he barked out a laugh. It was clear he didn’t believe Conan, and he swallowed thickly as he stood up, looking around for Conan’s phone. He tried to tap it awake, but his hand went through it, and so he tried again, a little gentler this time. The screen lit up to Gavin’s surprise, but it was short lived when he looked at the date. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my god,” Gavin said, staring at the phone. His mouth opened and closed, his eyebrows pulling up, and he swallowed as that information sunk in. He’d be a skeleton by now. There would be nothing left of him. Eli would have had to have Christmas without him, it would be their first year since they got back in touch that he hadn’t gotten drunk with his brother on expensive whiskey. His mother would have cried the whole day during his birthday. Nobody had a grave to visit. He was a ghost, because he hadn’t been put to rest. He was rotting in some asshole’s garden somewhere, and his family had no idea where he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin only vaguely listened to Conan talk. Every year, there was a certain percentage of cases that went unsolved, and remained unsolved forever. His was one of those cases. It had been a year and nobody had found him, and every time Gavin tried to help he couldn’t do anything. There was a very odd look on Gavin’s face as it occurred to him that he might never be found. He’d been in the ground for a year. And now, thanks to his brother, they would never get the clues they needed to solve it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eli will make you wish you’d never been born,” Gavin said weakly. “He’ll destroy every single facet of your life. You’ll be lucky to get a job flipping burgers, you can forget your career as a PI. If you’re not sleeping on the streets by the time Eli’s finished with you, you’ll be damn lucky. He’s never gonna believe you can talk to ghosts, he’ll scalp you for coming near him with that shit. Just drop the case, Conan. If Eli and his billions can’t find his brother in a year nobody can, just forget it,” Gavin said, sniffing and looking away from him. “Cases go unsolved every day, just move onto something else. Drop it.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>There really wasn’t anything Conan could do to make that revelation easier for Gavin.  It had been a year.  Anyone who knew anything related to crime knew that if a case had gone cold, the chances of it ever being solved were slim.  Conan knew how long it had been going into it, he knew it had been a long time.  He knew there were little to no leads, he knew there was a slim chance he’d find Gavin’s body, but he still wanted to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Gavin started detailing just how bad things would be for him if he went to Elijah with the things he knew, Conan sighed.  He’d already thought of all of it himself, he knew how Elijah might react.  He didn’t know how awful it might be, exactly, but he knew Elijah wasn’t going to believe him, and really, he couldn’t even blame him.  It was exactly why he insisted that Connor avoid mentioning it to him at all costs.  He didn’t want Connor to ruin the relationship he was building with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan shook his head, giving his foot a nudge with his under the table.  “No.  I’m not dropping it.  I’ll do what I can without his help.  I know he won’t believe me, I already had to convince Connor not to tell him.  I don’t plan on mentioning to him, at least not yet.  I need some solid, undeniable proof before I can go to him about this,” he said with a sigh.  “It’s not going to be easy, but I’m going to do this.  I’m not dropping the case.  I’ll find who did this to you, and I’ll find proof to bring to Elijah.  I’m not giving up, Gavin.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, Conan’s insistence pissed Gavin off. He’d told him to drop it and he’d given him a pretty solid reason why, so why the hell did he want to keep helping him? Was he stupid or stubborn or both? Was he such a green detective that he couldn’t spot a lost cause when he saw one? Elijah was the richest man in the world, and Gavin was his only family. He wasn’t so close-minded that he didn’t know what he meant to his brother. Elijah would have done everything in his power to find him. He was smarter than that whole precinct combined, and he was absolutely smarter than Conan. Elijah had been looking for him for a year and hadn’t found anything. The fact that Conan thought he could do better made him want to scream at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking idiot, Conan. Look around you. You think you can do better than Elijah Kamski? You’re an idiot,” Gavin snapped at him, his voice raised and upset. “Drop the fucking case. Stop wasting your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin got up, phasing through the chair he’d been sitting in, and disappeared as he stalked unhappily towards the front door. He found himself in the yard again. He looked down at the grass and the weeds, at the years worth of growth, and his face scrunched up. Gavin </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, kicking the dirt, and fell to his knees as he tried to rip it up. His hands passed through everything, which only made him angrier - a feeling that doubled when he tried to pick up a chunk of brick and throw it, and couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he could think about was the irony of how many homicides he’d solved, how many families he’d called and given closure, only for his own case to be put on the shelf, and his own family to get nothing. He’d dedicated his life to finding people like the freak who had cut him open, but when he needed his own freak found and put in jail, nobody could do it. Not even Gavin. He was angry, and so deeply disappointed, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry -</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he’d done something so stupid to get himself killed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went dark around Gavin without him realising it. Time seemed to slip around him, as it had for the past year. Gavin looked up at the windows of the house, his lip curling as he noticed a figure move past the curtains. With a shift of his weight, Gavin found himself inside the house, too, staring at the back of the man who’d cut him open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>HEY!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gavin yelled, stalking after him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seething</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “What’s your name, motherfucker. What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your name, huh? You wanna know what i’d do if i could touch you? Nothing legal, i’ll promise you that, you lowlife fucking dog. How many other people you killed before me, huh? How many people you got in that yard, motherfucker?” Gavin snarled, circling the man as he walked through his house. Gavin kept at it. For hours, he hounded him, swore at him, threatened and made promises. Terror crept in from time to time, but it was always kept back with anger, until Gavin exhausted himself and was able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why had he come to visit him? Why was he here, without telling anyone where he’d gone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin stopped running his mouth, and started watching. In every room except the main ones, there were androids. Chassis’, biocomponents, blueprints printed out on paper, thirium310. It was everywhere. Why had he come here? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin stopped trying to remember, and started to </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Why would he come here? The androids couldn’t be a coincidence. But Gavin wasn’t responsible for anything to do with androids, he was always on homicide. And why wouldn’t he go to Elijah about androids? Why would he come to this guy? Gavin followed him. He watched the man while he slept, trembling in fear, trying to figure out why he was so afraid. Why had he come here? Why hadn’t he told anyone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin wandered back through the house, back downstairs, back into that basement, and stood in front of the caged doors. He listened to the soft shuffling of bodies behind it, and little by little, he stepped closer, until he was just inside the cage doors. There was a scraping noise, rhythmic and constant, and he shifted to look at what was making it and why. One of the androids, one that Gavin recognised as a model from the 20’s from the way his chassis was designed, was using the tips of his fingers to scrape at the brick. Little by little, he was turning it to dust, and every so often he’d blow a small cloud of it away. He kept wobbling the brick, trying to get it loose, but it was a huge slab of stone. Still, he scraped at it, wearing away the tips of his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Gavin pulled in air so sharply it made him cough, and pushed a hand against his forehead. His mouth parted, and he froze in place, his hands in his hair as he tried to chase a memory that was right on the tip of his tongue. He was there because… of androids. Because they were-- because he was investigating one, but he couldn’t remember why…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin shifted, his hair sticking up in all directions as he found himself back in his apartment. It was pitch black and dead silent, but Gavin didn’t care about the time. He didn’t know that it was Thursday morning at 3:30am, three days after he’d stormed out of Conan’s kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wake up,” Gavin said as he walked into his bedroom. “Wake up, I remembered something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Conan</span>
  </em>
  <span>, get your ass out of bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Gavin snapped at him, Conan tried to keep himself calm.  He knew Gavin was upset, but he wasn’t too happy about being called an idiot, or being told that Elijah could do his job better than him.  While Elijah Kamski was probably one of the smartest men in Detroit, he wasn’t a detective.  He wasn’t professionally trained to know what to look for.  Conan was, and he was great at what he did.  One of the best, back in Chicago.  He had the best chances at finding Gavin’s killer, because he was a professional.  Sure, Elijah had money on his side, but Conan had knowledge, experience, and training to back him up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had something Elijah didn’t.  He had Gavin himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conan opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, Gavin was gone.  He figured he’d be back, he just needed time to cool down, so Conan took that time to do the same.  He wasn’t dropping the case.  He was solving it, to give Gavin peace and to prove to him that he was good at his job, that he could do better than Elijah Kamski.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, Conan sent Connor an email with all of the information he had so far before he let himself get buried in his work.  He sipped at his coffee while he searched through public records, looking at all of the mansion owners and compiling a list of all of the people with Russian surnames.  It was a lengthy, time consuming process.  He only paused his work to switch his sheets over into the dryer and to get himself something quick for lunch before diving back in.  Before he knew it, it was already nearing time for dinner and he had to stop so he could get ready to go meet Connor for dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As expected, Connor lectured him about getting too close to Gavin.  Getting attached to someone who wasn’t even on the same existential plane as them wasn’t a good idea, it was only going to end in heartbreak.  Gavin was going to move on, once they solved the case, and leave Conan behind.  He shouldn’t get too invested in their relationship, they shouldn’t continue to be romantic or sexual.  Conan was the detective working Gavin’s case and that was it, he wasn’t his therapist, he wasn’t his friend or his partner, it was a professional relationship and it should stay that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Connor loud and clear, but that didn’t mean he was going to listen.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> attached.  But currently, he was angry, and while he </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned</span>
  </em>
  <span> on listening to Connor and putting some distance between them, that didn’t mean it was going to stick.  Not when Gavin was able to touch him and he could touch Gavin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, Conan returned home to an empty, quiet apartment.  He spent a little time working, remade his bed, and watched a little TV to help his brain shut off before bed.  He expected to see Gavin the following day.  So far, he hadn’t stayed gone for long, surely he’d come back.  He ate breakfast and searched through more public records to add to his list for the rest of the day, only ever stopping to get lunch and dinner.  No sign of Gavin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following couple days were spent the same as the last.  Gavin still hadn’t shown up.  Conan tried not to be discouraged, but he did miss him.  He missed the company and found himself seeking out Connor’s more often, even if it was just a couple texts throughout the day to make him feel a little less alone.  He still had more public records to go through, but he was making good progress.  There were a lot more mansions in Detroit that he originally thought, but he was nearing the end, at least for that portion of his investigation.  A couple more days of working like he was and he thought he’d be done and able to move on to step two of his plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t expecting to see Gavin anytime soon.  He thought maybe he was serious about giving up.  He hadn’t shown up, there wasn’t a single sign of him, he was just alone.  He was determined to work anyway, to prove him wrong, but each day that passed felt lonelier and lonelier.  He wasn’t very optimistic.  He hoped he’d solve the case, but without Gavin’s help, their chances were slim.  He went to bed Wednesday night with hopes of finishing step one tomorrow, so he could move onto step two and hopefully make some </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> progress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sound asleep when Gavin’s voice cut through his dream.  Conan groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore him, but he just couldn’t.  He didn’t make any effort to get up or open his eyes, though, only giving him a grumbled “What?” from where his face was pressed into his pillow.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gavin frowned over at Conan, and walked towards the bed. It was tempting to climb over him and on top of him, and playfully pin him down, but it was more of a passing thought than a genuine urge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remembered why i was there. I was investigating androids, it was right there in front of us the whole fucking time,” Gavin said hotly, putting a hand on Conan’s shoulder and shaking him awake. “I think I suspected an android to be the perp. Explains why i never wrote it down, the theory’s crazy, nobody with half a brain would want that on their record. Explains why i never told anyone where i was going. Explains why I wasn't suspicious of the guy. I was trying to get information about rogue androids. Bet you a hundred bucks i called Eli up and asked a million questions before i died, and he was probably an esoteric dick the whole time i asked them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Conan’s hip and using it to roll him over. He paused once he had, taking a moment to absorb his sleep-flushed face, heavy eyes, and mused hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know shit about rogue androids, </span>
  <em>
    <span>which means</span>
  </em>
  <span> i would have asked around. Which means all </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> have to do is ask around. You got that list of Russians in mansions, right? Just match the names, baby.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ohhohoho this was a very fun chapter.<br/>Can you guess what Gavin was researching or why Elijah locked the case? c:</p><p>Thank you for reading! A comment would make our hearts warm &lt;33</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski</p><p>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! A cheeky comment would make our hearts warm &lt;3</p><p>We've been having a lot of fun writing this. It's been a blast sort of plotting out how and why Gavin was murdered and sprinkling details throughout the posts as our characters unravel them. It's also been fun writing an unreliable narrator - Gavin "i've only been dead for two weeks" Reed. </p><p>I don't think we made it super clear in the rp, but it's set in April 2038. We're planning on having the deviant uprising still happen in August/November as usual, and were thinking of having RK800 look like Amelia (although Cadi and I did have a hilarious conversation about "what if CyberLife made the RK800 still look like Connor." They just release a machine intended to destroy his life's work that looks like Elijah's new boyfriend. Classic asshole CyberLife move)</p><p>Next chapter features some KamCon, and Gavin doing some investigating in the old redbrick manor he keeps finding himself outside of. Also my fav side-character to write, Gavin's cat, makes an appearance.</p><p>You can find us on twitter:<br/>Jess/naRK800 - @MutualTrust2038<br/>Cadi/ElijahKamski - @ekamski__</p><p>Cadi (ElijahKamski) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Conan Stern (RK900)<br/>- Elijah Kamski<br/>Jess (naRK800) is the author of the following characters:<br/>- Gavin Reed<br/>- Connor Stern<br/>- Chloe</p></blockquote></div></div>
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